


Collared

by Samara Lilly (Amber_Rose)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Crying, Cuddling, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Light Bondage, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Riding Crops, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex, Whipping, floggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Rose/pseuds/Samara%20Lilly
Summary: Aziraphale is missing something in his relationship with Crowley. Together they begin to explore a new dynamic between them.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 113





	1. Aftercare - tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try with a dom/sub story. No personal experience, only read a lot of fanfictions... So please don't take this story as advice for anything, because it isn't. 
> 
> If you find errors in how I describe the scenes between Crowley and Aziraphale - please tell me! I always want to improve! 
> 
> The story is not yet fully finished, but most of it is already written. Chapters may be short (like this first one), depending on the topic. 
> 
> As always: I am no native speaker. You are welcome to point out mistakes! Thanks, lovelies!

“Give me a colour, dove.”  
“Green…” breathes Aziraphale, voice barely audible. He lets himself be handled, moved and tended to by the sure and steady hands of his Dom. Crowley massages the feeling back into Aziraphale’s arms which have been bound behind his back for hours now - wrist to wrist, elbow to elbow. No problem for a celestial being, but taking care is most important.  
“How does it feel?”  
“Tingly… pins and needles…”  
Crowley smiles, then presses a loving kiss to each of the angel’s palms. Next he checks for is Aziraphale’s black leather collar. His fingertips find a spot where the skin is red and chafed. Crowley furrows his brow and reaches for the buckle to open it. 

“Crowley, can… can I wear it a little longer?” Aziraphale asks, his voice low and he sounds still a little dreamy.  
Crowley arches an eyebrow. “Why? Scene’s over. We agreed I would remove the collar once the scene’s over.”  
“I know. But… I quite like the feeling.” Aziraphale blushes.  
“There is a small red spot where the collar has rubbed against your skin. You should have used our colours. I don’t want you to get hurt unintentionally during a scene.”  
“It was fine.”  
“No, it wasn’t. I want you to tell me when something’s wrong. We agreed on this. Promise me for the next time.“  
Aziraphale nods silently. 

„Good.“ Crowley smiles again, then very gently moves his thumb over the little abrasion. His thumb heals the tiny bruise and Crowley bends forward to kiss the spot. Aziraphale sighs happily. When Crowley straightens again, he wants to make sure about what Aziraphale had asked earlier.  
“You really want to wear the collar some more?”  
“Yes, please…”  
“Well, if you like… But you wouldn’t wear it in public, right?”  
“Hm… didn’t think about it. Yet.”  
Crowleys arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment further.  
“Alright. Let’s get you clean and cozy.”  
Crowley snaps his fingers to warm the water in the bowl next to the bed. He wets a flannel and wipes remains of tears from Aziraphale’s face. He is very gentle and careful and dries Aziraphale’s skin with a velvety soft towel. 

Aziraphale smiles a little bit. Crowley taking care of him is amazing. Maybe the best part. Aziraphale is still floating, high on endorphins and still in subspace. He loves the attention Crowley still pays him after he has taken care of his needs for hours now. Aftercare has always been very important. Crowley would never leave Aziraphale without being thoroughly cared for. 

Crowley softly hums to himself while he washes Aziraphale’s face and after that his chest and belly, sticky with drying precome and semen.  
“Turn over for me, dove.”  
Aziraphale does and spreads his legs without being told to. Crowley cleans his bottom, including his well used hole, and inspects it. Aziraphale is wet and still loose, but there are no bruises.  
“Everything is fine. Do you want a pyjama?”  
“Yes, please,” whispers Aziraphale. Crowley fetches him his softest pyjama and helps him into it. Aziraphale lifts his arms when told to, pliant and docile. Of course Crowley could miracle it onto him. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to make his angel feel good. To care for him. And this is part of it, too.

“There you are, darling. You did so well for me. Now lie down. I’ll make you a cup of tea. And I’ve prepared something to nibble for you. Let me clean myself, and I’ll be back in a minute.”  
Crowley tucks Aziraphale in. The angel looks up at him, trusting and thankful. Crowley plants a long, gentle kiss to Aziraphale's forehead. When he looks down at him, Aziraphale has closed his eyes. With a smile Crowley leaves for the bathroom. He quickly scrubs himself down. He could use a miracle here, too. But he likes the feeling of cleaning himself like humans do, and this routine helps him to get back to his usual mind set. When he is finished he wraps himself in his dressing gown, puts on some cozy socks and then goes to the kitchen. 

When he returns with a full tray he stops for a moment in the open bedroom door, silently admiring the sight of Aziraphale. The angel hasn’t moved a muscle. He looks peaceful and content.  
“Angel?” whispers Crowley. Aziraphale opens his eyes and smiles at him. It’s moments like these that Crowley realizes: this is what Aziraphale wants. What makes him happy. What he needs. And what only Crowley can give him. Because Aziraphale would never trust anyone else enough to share this. 

“You have to drink some water first.” Crowley puts the tray down onto the bedside table. The first thing he reaches for is a small bottle of water with a straw so Aziraphale doesn’t have to move too much. Obediently Aziraphale takes the straw between his lips.  
“Slowly, my angel. Take your time.” He watches and observes how Aziraphale slowly sips the water. He empties half the bottle, before he lets go off the straw.  
“Thank you, Crowley.”  
“My pleasure. Do you want to eat something? I have grapes, strawberries and apricots.”  
“Do the grapes have seeds?”  
“Of course not. I know you, dove.”  
“Then some grapes, please.”

Crowley feeds Aziraphale a handful of grapes and then some strawberries, before he hands him the tea and helps him to sit up so he can drink it.  
“Alright? More grapes? Or maybe an apricot?”  
“Another strawberry?”  
“What ever you like.”

Crowley feeds Aziraphale another strawberry and after that some more grapes, until Aziraphale shakes his head.  
“Enough?” Crowley caresses Aziraphale’s cheek. “Then rest. I’ll be right here.”  
“Thank you, darling…” Aziraphale turns his head to press a kiss into Crowley’s palm. He lies back and sighs, when Crowley cards his fingers through his blond curls and then pulls the duvet up a little.  
“I love you…” he whispers, then stands up and takes a seat in an armchair in the corner of his bedroom from where he can keep a watchful eye on Aziraphale. The angel closes his eyes again. He will need a little more time until he has completely come out of his subspace. And then he will want to cuddle. Crowley will be patiently waiting for him until he is ready. 

He watches his beloved angel, who is not quite asleep nor really awake. He is still floating in this state in between, and the trust the angel shows him every time they do this moves him to tears. How does he deserve a love like this? He settles deeper into his armchair, warm and relaxed himself. His thoughts wander back to when this new stage of their relationship began. It’s only a few months, but never has anything felt this unique and overwhelming. To both of them. And it had been Aziraphale, the innocent angel, who has brought this whole thing up. Crowley smiles. Never has anything better happened to him than his angel. The most important thing in his whole existence. Trusting a demon to dominate him. Trusting in a forbidden love. Trusting that Crowley will never betray him. Even though the start of this special thing was in fact a rough one. What a strange love this is…


	2. A few months ago - the angel's needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are only a few hundred words and this work received some recognition already - thank you so much! 
> 
> This chapter takes Aziraphale and Crowley back to the point where this whole dom/sub thing started and from that point on we will accompany them...

The angel Aziraphale, guardian of The Eastern Gate, angel of Eden, is in love. In love with a demon. With the demon Crowley, former Crawley, a fallen angel, beautiful and sarcastic and in love with him, too. Aziraphale knows now that Crowley fell for him when they met for the first time on the wall around the garden of Eden. The demon has loved him from this first day. Has given him so many signs, so many hints, so many chances, but Aziraphale chose to ignore each and every single one. For Crowley’s sake. For his own sake. They were on opposite sides. They weren’t meant to fall in love. They weren’t meant to even be friends. They were meant to thwart each other, to even hate each other. Fate had different plans. Maybe God had different plans. Without an angel and a demon becoming best friends, working together, maybe the world would have been destroyed by now. And they can’t know, can they? The Great Plan is still ineffable. 

And so here they are now, in bed, together, naked, the demon draped over the angel’s chest like a living blanket, smiling in his sleep, clinging to him like he is his life line, and the angel is caressing his bare back, smiling, too, because he never expected anyone to love him like this. Like mad. Crowley rarely says it, but Aziraphale knows he does love him so unconditionally that it might scare him, were he not used to it by now. Crowley never disappoints him. He does everything in his might for him. He showers him with affection and love. But it’s never too much. The demon is present, but not pressing. Sometimes he sleeps in the book shop, coiled up in his snake form on one of the upper shelves. Like a guardian. Aziraphale loves to look at the beautiful serpent, the shiny scales, the golden eyes - open, even though he is asleep, because snakes don’t have eyelids. Crowley loving him and being there for him no matter what is everything one could wish for. 

And yet… there is this nagging feeling, like an itch Aziraphale can’t scratch. It’s not exactly that he’s missing something. But there is something he craves. And has no idea how to express it to Crowley. Crowley wouldn’t understand. How could he? Aziraphale barely understands himself. How could he ever explain to the demon and expect him to act upon it? Crowley loves him so much. Too much to do what Aziraphale feels he needs - very deep down. Crowley is able to let go completely. Aziraphale can’t. He wishes he could give himself over like Crowley does. The smile on Aziraphale’s face fades away. He shouldn’t think like that. He should be grateful for everything they have. And he is, he really is. Just this itch… 

Crowley stirs when he feels the angel’s chest expand with a deep sigh. He is so fine tuned to everything Aziraphale does that he automatically comes out of his peaceful slumber. He sighs silently. How he loves his warm and soft angel! He could lie here like this forever. He loves nothing more than being as close as possible to Aziraphale. Sometimes to be even closer he turns into a snake to coil his whole long body around the angel and get as much contact as possible. But this deep sigh the angel just made makes Crowley open his eyes. What’s bothering him?

“You alright, angel?” he murmurs and rubs his cheek against the soft, white blond chest hair.  
“I didn’t want to wake you, darling. Sorry about that.”  
“Nah, it’s fine.” Crowley lifts his head now. Golden eyes full of love and adoration seem to bore right into Aziraphale’s soul.  
“You’re tensing up. What’s bothering you?”  
Aziraphale smiles a little. He cards his fingers through the messy red hair on top of the demon’s head. He has grown it out again to a near shoulder length and wears it in a stylish man bun when the mood strikes him. It suits him, and Aziraphale has always loved Crowley’s hair a little longer. He gently touches the snake sigil in front of his ear with his thumb. 

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep if you like.”  
“As if I could go back to sleep now. What were you thinking about?” Crowley folds his hands over Aziraphale’s chest and rests his chin on them. He looks expectantly up into the angel’s face.  
Aziraphale’s smile fades again, and Crowley starts to feel a little uneasy.  
“What is it? You know we can talk about everything. We made a promise,” Crowley reminds him, voice soft.  
“I know. It’s just… maybe this is not the right time and place.”  
“Alright, then when and where is the right time and place?”  
“I… please drop it, Crowley. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

These words have of course no soothing effect on Crowley. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
“You’re beginning to worry me, angel.”  
“Oh…” Aziraphale sighs again and knows he has fucked up. Crowley will want to know now.  
“That was never my intention. So sorry, darling.”  
“You don’t have to be sorry. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”  
“You wouldn’t like it. And I don’t want to talk about it right now.”  
“Don’t you trust me?”  
“That’s not the point. Of course I trust you. But like I said… you wouldn’t like it.”

Crowley swallows. There is this familiar feeling he hasn’t felt for a while. Not since they have become a couple after the avoided Apocalypse. Aziraphale says he trusts him, but he doesn’t tell what’s going on. Are there still doubts? If he really trusts him, why can’t he just tell him and be done with it? 

Aziraphale sees the dark cloud of uncertainty and doubt darken Crowley’s golden eyes. He instantly feels miserable. If anything he doesn’t want to make Crowley sad or doubt anything about their relationship. Oh what has he done… 

“Crowley, my dear, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want you to worry.”  
“You’re worrying me if you talk and act like that.” Crowley leaves his comfortable place on Aziraphale’s chest now. He sits up and rests his back against the headboard, pulling the duvet up over his bare chest. He feels vulnerable and uneasy - something he hasn’t felt for a long time since they got together. 

With a sigh Aziraphale rubs his hands over his face. What now? He has no choice but to tell Crowley. Only thing is - he has no clue how to put it and how the demon will react. And he certainly shouldn’t confess his wishes in their bed… 

“Why can’t you talk to me? What’s so difficult about that?”  
“It’s not you, darling. You have done nothing wrong. It’s me. But… Please, Crowley, I can’t talk to you about it now. I promise I will, but… not right now. I’m going to take a shower.” Aziraphale throws away the duvet and leaves the bed. Crowley can only watch him go to the bathroom. His thoughts are racing. Why can’t Aziraphale just tell him? He gets more and more restless once he hears the shower running next door. When he can’t sit still anymore he gets up, too, and quickly puts on some black sweat pants, a washed out Queen t-shirt and one of Aziraphale’s soft cardigans, before the heads for the kitchen. 

Like always Aziraphale’s cupboards are well stocked with red wine. It’s only a matter of seconds to choose a bottle of Merlot and open it. Crowley pours himself a glass and empties it without hesitation and then a second one just because he’s so nervous. 

When Aziraphale comes searching for him, he’s dressed as usual, only without his bowtie and wearing a cardigan, too. Meanwhile Crowley is sitting on the kitchen counter, a third glass of wine in hand, but now only sipping on it. His red hair is still disheveled - part still from their lovemaking, part because he constantly runs a hand through the unruly strands in uncertainty and impatience. Aziraphale stops in the kitchen door to look at him. His heart is aching, because he can clearly see the distress Crowley’s in. And the demon is rarely distressed these days. 

“Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t want our evening to end like this.”  
“You can stop apologizing and bloody tell me what’s going on before I go mad,” Crowley snarls, trying not to sound as desperate and miserable as he feels. He takes a big gulp of his wine, then offers the bottle to Aziraphale.  
“Want some?”  
“Yes…” Aziraphale fetches himself a glass and fills it.  
The wine bottle is already nearly empty. He sits down at the kitchen table, takes a sip of his wine and then says: “I was thinking a lot, lately, about… a certain dynamic between us.”

Crowley stays silent, only watches Aziraphale closely and waits. For a long moment the angel says nothing, searching for a way to put into words what he himself barely understands.  
“Crowley, do you think…” Aziraphale clears his throat. This will be one of the most difficult conversations of his existence.  
“Do you think, you are strong enough to… overpower me?”  
Crowley frowns. “Overpower you? Why should I?”  
“Well, you know… I am just curious. We are both made from the same stock, so our powers should equal each other. I was only wondering if one of us… is actually stronger.”  
“I suppose we’re equal. But I still don’t understand why you want to know. Do you want to wrestle with me?”  
“Wrestle? No, not exactly, no… But… erm…” Aziraphale blushes furiously, and suddenly Crowley understands.  
“Oh, you mean… sex.” Crowley’s eyes go a little wider. But he still doesn’t know what exactly is behind Aziraphale’s question. Aziraphale swallows, then nods and hastily takes a big gulp of his wine. He looks at Crowley and can practically see the demon thinking, until finally everything seems to fall into place. 

“What you’re saying here now is… you want me to… to dominate you in bed. To… force you. Is that right?” Crowley speaks quietly, the look on his face… unreadable.  
Aziraphale feels his heart thundering in his chest. He wants to say no. Wants to laugh. Wants to make a joke out of it.  
“Yes…” he breathes instead.  
“Yes,” repeats Crowley, voice flat. He still looks at Aziraphale for a long moment. The seconds tick by one by one. Then Crowley’s face seems to… fall. It’s as if a cloud darkens the gleam of his eyes for a second time this evening. Aziraphale begins to sweat. He’s beginning to suspect he has made a really big mistake. 

Crowley hops down from the kitchen counter and turns his back to Aziraphale. He can’t look at him now and stares into nothing.  
“I can’t do that, angel. Don’t make me do this,” he chokes out.  
Aziraphale gasps. Oh no… This is worse than he had thought it would be.  
“I’m sorry!” he blurts out, gets up and goes over to Crowley to reach for him and put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Darling, I… you don’t have to. Forget everything I said. Please, look at me…”  
But Crowley doesn’t react. The demon still stares without seeing, his palms sweaty. He doesn’t dare to move, can’t say a word. What Aziraphale has asked of him makes him question everything about their relationship. If Aziraphale wants something like this from him… how does he see Crowley? Does he only see the demon? _Still_ only the demon? That can’t be… 

Numbness begins to creep into Crowley's body. He had really thought they had something special. All the years must have been good for _something_. Or so he had thought until right now. It seems he was wrong. Aziraphale sees the demon. And what do demons want? They want to make trouble. They use their powers to do something bad. In as many ways as possible. Sometimes they even use violence. That’s obviously how Aziraphale sees him: that he would love to use his powers to his advantage. And that’s the one thing Crowley would never do to him. Never in a million years. He has nothing but love for his angel. Aziraphale is the one being he can show himself to like he used to be before his fall. He has shown Aziraphale all these facets of himself: the tenderness, the love, the admiration, the devotion, the craving to love and be loved. But also the doubts, the uncertainty, the fears. So many fears…

“Crowley - please, say something!” begs Aziraphale now. He has no idea what’s going on in Crowley’s head and heart. He can only suspect it’s something that’s overwhelming him. And not in a good way… The demon is still at a loss. What now? He’s already questioning everything between them, fearing that his heart will break when he loses Aziraphale. 

“Why?” he asks finally, but still not turning towards him.  
“Why? Um… just like I said, forget about it. Let’s never talk about it again. It makes you uncomfortable, and I don’t want that.”  
“No. You’re not comfortable with what we already have. Obviously. I don’t understand it, angel. Why do you want me to force you to do something? And most of all in the bedroom?”  
“I…” Aziraphale wrings his hands. Suddenly he is grateful Crowley is still not looking at him. It makes things a little easier.  
“Tell me. I want to understand.” Even though it makes him cringe and hurt inside. 

Aziraphale sighs. “It’s… Crowley, even I don’t understand every aspect of it. It’s just…” Aziraphale turns away from him now and begins to slowly pace his small kitchen. Crowley listens to his footsteps and fears Aziraphale won’t find the courage to tell him, when Aziraphale eventually begins to talk. The footsteps have stopped. 

Aziraphale is standing in the opposite corner of the kitchen, looking out of the small window, searching for comfort in the well known view down onto the street and pretends to just talk to the passersby below. 

“It’s not really that I want you to… to force me to have sex with you. It’s… I can never let go. Not even with you. It’s ingrained in my body, in my soul. My whole being. I may have decided things on my own that weren’t part of God’s plan. Like letting Adam and Eve leave the garden with my flaming sword. But I was always… I am never relaxed. You know me, Crowley. Nobody knows me like you do. When have you ever seen me completely unguarded? I wear my clothes like an armour. I always behave composed and friendly and put together. I can’t just let go. Even being with you in bed… I love, what we have, I really do. It’s satisfying, and I love you so much, but… even then I can’t really let go. Give myself up. To the pleasure. To you. What I want is…”

He struggles for words, Crowley can sense it. And realization dawns on him now.  
“So what you’re trying to explain to me is… you have problems to enjoy it to the fullest because you feel…” He is searching for the right expression. He has to know exactly what Aziraphale means.  
“You feel like you can’t allow yourself to relax. To enjoy. To let go. You feel like you have to keep control until someone else takes it from you. Does that come close to what you’re feeling?”

Aziraphale is speechless. “Yes. That… is very much my problem.”  
Oh, Crowley is really much smarter than he takes credit for!  
“It’s not all about the sex. It’s much more. When we make love, dearest, I am always amazed how completely you give yourself into my hands. How much you trust me to bring you joy and satisfaction. I trust you, too. But… I want this trust to show between us in a different way.”

They both turn around simultaneously and look at each other, golden eyes locking gaze with storm grey ones. There is silence between them. Both try to understand and to process what’s beginning to happen here. Aziraphale can sense that Crowley is now at least considering the thought. And Crowley is willing to try to understand why Aziraphale thinks he needs this. After a long moment Crowley sighs. He takes another bottle of Merlot out of the cupboard.  
“Let’s talk, shall we?”  
“Yes. I think we should.”

When this second bottle of wine is empty, they finally have sorted their thoughts and feelings and feel brave enough to try to start talking about it in earnest. They sit apart - something they haven’t done for a while: Crowley on the small old sofa, Aziraphale in the matching arm chair in his living room. 

“So - how do you think this is going to work? Will it really work at all?” asks Crowley finally.  
“I… honestly, I don’t know. I have never done something like that.”  
“Me, neither. I may be a demon. But I don’t have any experience with… BDSM.”  
There. There is the word. Aziraphale feels a shiver running down his spine. It sounds filthy. Wrong. And yet exciting. What’s wrong with him?  
“Then we should maybe do some research?”, suggests Aziraphale. His mouth is dry. Shouldn’t have drunk so much wine. Or is there another reason for it?  
“We should. And you should tell me what you want. How you feel.”  
“I already told you, it’s complicated.”  
“You have to try. We have to start somewhere.“ He sighs and then tries again. 

“I still don’t know how you want this whole power thing to work. We’re equals. And you were a soldier, once. I don’t think I would be able to truly overpower you.”  
“I am sure we will find a way.”  
“You said you want me to dominate you. To restrain you. How do you think this will work? We both have supernatural power. There won’t be any rope or chain to hold you.”  
“No human made rope or chain,” Aziraphale says quietly.  
Crowley gasps. “You can’t imply I use hellish restraints on you? Out of the question!”  
“Why not? It would be the most effective.”  
“No! What do you think will happen when I summon some shackles or chains from downstairs? A demon won’t need these unless they want to use it on a celestial being! Head office would immediately know there was something important going on and investigate! No way I would do that and endanger you!”

“But you don’t work for downstairs anymore.”  
“No, but they still keep records. Can’t risk that.”  
Aziraphale licks his lips and thinks about it for a moment. “Something else, then. You can be very convincing. I’ve seen you pull this trick hundreds of times already. It would only take me some time to get into the right headspace. Then you could convince me that the rope or what ever we use is able to hold me. That I won’t be able to free myself.”  
Crowley lifts his left eyebrow. “Could work. We can try that. If you really want me to tie you up.”

Aziraphale feels a rush of excitement bubble up inside him that concentrates in his groin. He wriggles his butt. Crowley see it, but decides to ignore it for the moment. Such kind of distraction would lead them nowhere at the moment.  
Aziraphale clears his throat. “I… yes,” he manages to say.  
Crowley nods, at a loss for words for a moment. “Yes…” he repeats. He looks into his wine glass as if it can provide the answers to all his questions. 

“What if you don’t like it? What if it isn’t what you expect?”  
“We won’t find out if we don’t try.” Aziraphale leaves his place now and changes to the sofa.  
“Crowley, my dear… I don’t know how all this will turn out. But I know one thing: I trust you. Completely. But I also know we will both have to do some research. Let’s do that before we talk more about it. It will help us to understand. I hope.“  
“Me, too…” admits the demon. He is still reluctant and not at all sure how this is going to end. But he knows one thing: This is a matter of trust. For both of them. 

“Come here, love,” begs Aziraphale and opens his arms. Crowley puts his wine glass away and lets himself be pulled into a loving embrace. The demon melts into it, basking in the warmth of Aziraphale’s body he has come to know so intimately, to love so deeply. He still can’t imagine to do what Aziraphale has asked of him. He is willing to try, though. But right now it feels good to just reassure himself that everything is fine. He feels Aziraphale’s lips on his temple.  
“My wily old serpent… Don’t worry too much. We will be fine. I love you.”  
“Love you, too…” breathes Crowley and clings a little closer to him, sighing deeply.  
“It will be alright. Promise.”


	3. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a short chapter, sorry... Did I forget important parts of such a conversation?

The following days they avoid talking about the topic while they both approach the subject differently. Aziraphale of course turns to books and immerses himself in his studies about this part of human sexuality. Crowley prefers to get his information eye to eye. He knows some people who introduce him to a circle of friends who indulge in BDSM. Crowley spends some nights talking to them, making mental notes. 

Aziraphale is not at all fond of the fact that Crowley spends so much time with others talking about such a sensible topic. What if someone or something sparks a desire and Aziraphale isn’t there? What if Crowley can’t resist a temptation? What if someone wants to show and introduce Crowley firsthand? That’s the point when Aziraphale is so distracted from his own studies that he has to get up and make himself some strong tea. After he has calmed down a bit he chides himself for his stupidity and jealousy. Crowley would never do such a thing. He would never disappoint him like that. They have waited so long for each other, no human could ever come between them. Of that Aziraphale is sure. But still there is this nagging feeling he tries to suppress as best as he can. 

They actually don’t see each other for three days and nights. Then Crowley returns to the book shop with an assortment of Aziraphale’s favorite pastries from his favorite bakery. Aziraphale is on his feet the instant he hears Crowley’s well known footsteps. Crowley rounds one of the book shelves and stops when he sees Aziraphale looking at him - so insistent, so full of love and hope. Crowley takes off his glasses to let Aziraphale see like he lets no one else see. A tiny smile curls the corners of his mouth, and he lifts the box and shrugs one shoulder. He sees Aziraphale sigh in relief. It’s only a few steps left for Crowley. He puts the box onto a stack of books next to him and hurries to take Aziraphale into his arms. 

“I missed you,” admits Aziraphale and snuggles into Crowley’s chest.  
“I know. Sorry. But it took more time than I thought. I learned a lot of things, though.”  
“Me, too. It’s good to have you back.”  
Crowley presses a loving kiss into Aziraphale’s downy curls. “It was only three days. There were times when we haven’t seen each other for decades,” he reminds him with a smile and asks himself how the hell he has managed that back then. But they hadn’t been together. They are now. And being separated now is something they both loathe more than they like to admit.  
“Have you eaten?” asks Crowley and retreats from their embrace.  
“Not much,” the angel answers and glances over at the box Crowley has brought. The demon laughs, a low rumble deep in his chest.  
“I guess I should feed you some treat, hm? Alright. Let’s go upstairs.” He kisses Aziraphale before he turns and fetches the box. Aziraphale is already putting out the lights, and they leave the shop for the flat above it. 

They have tea together, and as promised Crowley hand feeds Aziraphale some of the pastries. He has never done something like this before. But since he has learned much about this certain dynamic they are about to explore together, it feels natural to do this. Gives Aziraphale a first taste how it will be to have someone who takes care of his every need. And Crowley somehow likes the feeling. He has always liked to do things for Aziraphale. Damn, he has even saved his life more than once. Feeding him an eclair, though, is something entirely different. The way Aziraphale accepts the pastry and moans around the first bite is doing things to Crowley… He feels powerful and gentle at the same time. And his heart is full of love for Aziraphale. He would do anything the angel asks of him. 

When even Crowley has eaten some of the delicious pastries, they settle down more comfortably.  
“Where have you been?” asks Aziraphale and takes another sip of his tea.  
“London has a big community for… this kind of interest. I was introduced to some members of it. It was… strange. I didn’t know how deep one can immerse oneself into this kind of scene. Men and women of every age and every profession. You wouldn’t believe it. I didn’t get real names, but I don’t need any. What about you?”  
“I read. A lot. I have some books, some others I ordered. And I read on the internet. I avoided movies, though.”  
“That was very sensible. I was told there was a lot of material out there that one should not consider watching. What did you think of it?”  
Aziraphale sighs and avoids Crowley’s gaze. He prefers to keep his gaze locked to the contents of his mug. 

“I… erm…” It’s embarrassing to talk about it. But they have to if they want this to work. Aziraphale blushes.  
“It aroused me. Intrigued me. Especially the power dynamic. But some of the punishment, too. I just can’t tell how I will react when we really do this.”  
“Let’s talk about this some more. Before we do anything, we have to negotiate a few things. I have to be sure about everything we might do.”  
Aziraphale nods. “Absolutely. Go on.”  
“Okay. As I said, I have talked to some people. Who know what these games are about and who know how this works. First we need a safeword. And we can use a colour system. Green is fine, yellow is for a break and red is stop. If anything becomes too much all of a sudden, you can use your safe word, and the scene is over. Same for me. I don’t have any experience with this. It might be that I become uncomfortable, so the same colours apply for me. And I will choose my own safe word.”  
Aziraphale nods again. “I read about it. And I agree.”  
“Good.” Crowley sighs, rubs his sweaty palms over his jeans clad thighs.

“We should start slowly. See what works for us. And talk. After every scene. Even more so if something doesn’t go as expected.”  
“Alright.”  
“Good. Hard limits. I have to know if there are things you absolutely don’t want to happen.”  
Aziraphale fiddles with a button of his waistcoat. He has read a great amount of books during the last three days - and online on the laptop Crowley had given him as a gift a few months ago. But reading about it and talking about it are two very different things. It’s already difficult to talk to Crowley about sex at all. How he is supposed to tell him about his cravings - and what he won’t want to try at all?

“Hard limits… would be… I wouldn’t be able to take any degrading or humiliation. It would remind me of…” He doesn’t have to say more. It’s clear he means Gabriel.  
“Noted. What else?”  
“Erm… Petplay. And ageplay. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with this.”  
“Alright. Anything else?”  
“Oh...“ Aziraphale blushes, but then he adds: “Nothing with getting dirty.“  
Crowley's gaze flickers, his cheeks flush, too.  
“That's... Good. I wouldn't want that, either. More limits?“  
“I… don’t think so.”  
“Good. But before we try anything new we will always talk about it. Now for me.”

Aziraphale looks up, he is surprised. “What kind of hard limits would you have? You are the one in charge.”  
“Doesn’t mean I feel comfortable with everything that’s possible. I agree with your limits. Not my scene. I _will_ discipline you. I will… try my hand in bondage. We already talked briefly about restraints, and that’s fine by me. But no blood play. No breath play. And no wings involved.”  
Aziraphale nods. “Good you mentioned that. Very considerate of you.”  
Crowley blushes again, which makes Aziraphale’s heart swell with affection. “So no wings, we can agree on that, too. Is there more you wouldn’t feel comfortable with?”  
Crowley considers for a moment. This should be fine for the start, so he shakes his head. “We should start slowly. I have to learn how to do all this, and we both have to adjust to it.”  
“Yes. So tell me - what would your safeword be?  
Crowley has given this a lot of thought. A safeword should clearly be something that wouldn’t be said in a sexual context or in a context that has a relation to their past. But in the end… it was easy to chose his safe word. 

“ _Apple_.” It may sound ridiculous, but it also feels natural to him. Aziraphale can’t help but smile a little.  
“Good choice. Mine would be _flower_.”  
They both look at each other. It feels odd. Crowley is still not sure how it will feel to fulfill Aziraphale’s wishes. But he bravely shoulders on.  
“Noted. So… when do you want to start the first scene?”  
Aziraphale sighs. “I… I don’t know. What do you think?”  
“I think I need some sleep first. Care to join me in bed?” he smiles, and Aziraphale nods. When Crowley gets up, Aziraphale follows him to the bedroom. Crowley undresses until he’s butt naked and falls face first onto Aziraphale’s bed. 

Before they got together, Aziraphale has rarely used his bed. His bedroom has mostly acted as storage room. And more than once Crowley had to remove books from the bed before they had been able to get in. It had always made him shake his head, but smile at the same time. This was just so typically Aziraphale… What he has also done is miracle the bed a little larger for the two of them and add some really comfortable bedclothes and a much better pillow for himself. His preference for a little luxury has always been his weak spot, but he doesn’t see any harm in wanting to be as comfortable as possible. 

Crowley hears Aziraphale chuckle when he begins to squirm his way under their big shared duvet.  
“Wot? I deserve some sleep after that much research,” he grins and watches Aziraphale undress. When sharing the bed with Aziraphale Crowley always sleeps in the nude. It has taken him some time to convince Aziraphale to try it out, too. After the angel had given in, he has admitted that it was in fact very nice to be as close as possible. Having his love this close, skin on skin, their breaths mingling, feels wonderful. 

When Crowley lifts the duvet Aziraphale quickly slides under it and doesn’t resist when Crowley pulls him close, his back to Crowley’s chest. The demon sighs happily and buries his nose in Aziraphale’s curls. He feels his cock give an interested twitch, but nothing more. For once he is actually too tired to do more than cuddle. Aziraphale caresses the back of his hand.  
“Sleep well, darling.”  
“Night, angel.”  
It’s not long until Aziraphale hears Crowley’s breathing slow down and his body relaxing against his own. He smiles and closes his eyes, too. He won’t sleep, he rarely does. But that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy this moment of closeness and rest himself. The morning will surely bring back his energetic demon.


	4. A good morning

When Crowley wakes the next morning, he is still holding Aziraphale in his arms. His morning wood is pressing against the angel’s plump backside and Crowley smiles before he yawns.   
“Angel…”  
“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?” Crowley can hear the smile in Aziraphale’s words.   
“Very well.” He presses a kiss to the nape of Aziraphale’s neck and runs his hand over Aziraphale’s bare chest. The sound he makes when he does so is a deep sigh and a low growl.   
“My plump little angel… you feel so good…” With a slow slide of his hips he presses his hard cock between Aziraphale’s cheeks. Aziraphale responds with a wiggle of his butt. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” he asks a little breathlessly.   
“Eager already, are we?”, grins Crowley, rolling his hips.   
“I wanna taste you…”

This is an offer Crowley never has the willpower to resist. “Ngk…”  
Aziraphale takes that as a yes. He turns in Crowley’s arms until they can look at each other.   
“There you are…”, whispers Aziraphale and pulls Crowley into a deep kiss. The demon’s forked tongue plunders Aziraphales welcoming mouth, but all too soon Aziraphale pulls away. He kisses and nips his way all down Crowley’s body: over his neck, his chest (paying extra attention to his nipples), further down over his flat belly and down to his dark red pubic hair. The smell down here is intoxicating. Aziraphale revels in the warmth and the smell for a moment before he squirms further and between Crowley’s thighs. Crowley is spreading his legs wide, trying to give Aziraphale all the space he needs. 

Now that he has reached his final goal Aziraphale, takes his time. He kisses the soft insides of Crowley’s thighs and over his heavy balls. Crowley is gasping with every touch of Aziraphale’s mouth. Little nips of his lips make him shiver, and then Aziraphale laves his ballsack with broad swipes of his tongue, before he takes one of his balls into his mouth.   
“Ha!” Crowley’s hand finds its way into Aziraphale’s curls. Not to direct him, not to push him. Just to ground himself, while the other fists the sheets. Aziraphale massages the sensitive organ with his tongue, trying to bring as much pleasure as possible. He switches sides and pays the same attention to the other one before finally licking up Crowley’s erect cock from root to tip. Precome has already beaded at the velvety head. With a moan Aziraphale licks it up. The taste explodes on his tongue: salty, a little bitter - just like Crowley himself. Aziraphale collects all of it with a swirl of his tongue around the sensitive cockhead. Crowley arches his hips, trying to get more of this delicious warmth around his cock. 

Aziraphale’s oral fixation doesn’t stop when it comes to sex. He loves the taste, the texture, the feeling of a heavy cock on his tongue, the stretch of his lips around it. It doesn’t take long until he bobs his head up and down on Crowley’s cock, teasing the sensitive spot just below the head with the tip of his tongue on every move upwards. Crowley can’t take his eyes off Aziraphale. He already is a sight, fellating him with enthusiasm. But knowing that it’s an angel doing this without any shame makes the whole experience even better. Crowley sometimes still can’t believe that Aziraphale is doing this for him. Him, a demon! Aziraphale’s eyes are closed, he savors every second, and moans unashamedly around Crowley’s cock. 

Crowley is already panting, his balls drawing up. His orgasm is building fast.   
“Angel - ‘m close…” He chokes out. Aziraphale opens his eyes, looks up at him while never faltering in his rhythm. He should look obscene like this. But he doesn’t. He looks beautiful and still so sweet and innocent, and that is more than enough to send Crowley tumbling over the edge and into an intense orgasm. He has to close his eyes for a second while he feels himself spurt into Aziraphale’s eager mouth, hears the angel choke a little and the constricting feeling as he swallows around Crowley’s pulsing cock. Crowley rides it out, moaning himself, gasping for breath. When he looks down, still more than half hard, still in Aziraphale’s talented mouth, the angel winks at him before letting go to lick Crowley very thoroughly clean. Every touch of this pink tongue makes Crowley shiver with oversensitivity. 

When Aziraphale is finished, his licks his lips in a way he always does when he has had an especially delicious treat and then smiles.   
Crowley has found his speech by now: “That was wonderful, angel. You are amazing at this.”  
“So I take it you liked it?”  
Crowley laughs. “Fishing for compliments? Come up here so I can kiss you properly.”  
Aziraphale does, and when Crowley kisses him languidly, he can still taste himself in the angel’s mouth. And he feels Aziraphale’ neglected erection pressing into his side. He pulls his lips away and asks into Aziraphale’s ear: “What do you need now, my dear? Shall I return the favor?”  
Aziraphale shudders before he asks: “Can you turn around for me?”  
Crowley smiles. “Do you wanna prepare me or shall I?” He already lifts his hand to snap his fingers, but Aziraphale shakes his head. “I don’t want to penetrate. Just… let me get behind you. On your hands and knees, please, darling.”   
“Oh… Alright.”

Crowley makes a little show when he turns his back to Aziraphale and gets up on his knees, shoulders still on the mattress. “I’m all ready for you, angel.”  
Aziraphale is behind him in only a second. He admires the beautiful view of Crowley’s lean, athletic body, the curve of his spine, the dimples just above his delectable arse. He runs his warm, soft hands over every expanse of skin he can reach. Crowley closes his eyes and just enjoys the feeling. He has no clue what Aziraphale wants or needs, but is more than willing to comply. 

Crowley feels and hears Aziraphale shuffle closer on his knees, his warm hands gently nudging Crowley’s thighs further apart and then spreading Crowley’s cheeks to expose him in the loveliest of ways.   
“Oh my dear, you look delectable…”   
A shiver runs down Crowley’s spine, and he wriggles his hips a little, until he feels the nip of Aziraphale’s teeth on one his cheeks, and then his breath ghosting over his hole. Crowley sighs when he feels the first sweep of Aziraphale’s tongue. It’s featherlight, making him squirm. He should have known. Once Aziraphale has gotten a taste, there is no way to stop him. 

And why would Crowley want to stop him when Aziraphale does these things to him? His angel has developed a wonderfully filthy mouth since they finally got together. He might still be shy in expressing his wishes and needs, but once he has, he goes all in. No hesitation. No shame at all. Crowley counts himself the luckiest being on the planet to have such an amazing lover. Aziraphale devours him in a way Crowley has never imagined. His tongue and lips are savoring every second. Crowley can feel Aziraphale’s saliva running down his balls and the insides of his thighs while he listens to the indecent slurping and humming sounds the angel makes. It’s more than enough to get Crowley hard and aching again in no time. Thank someone for not having a refractory period… 

Crowley is already squirming, panting and fisting the sheets. How can this innocent angel be this enthusiastic while rimming him? He is not really breaching the ring of muscle, though. Only teasing, lovingly, reverent, careful. Crowley feels his face burn. An act like this shouldn’t feel this good. Least of all an angel doing this to him. But at the same time he loves how important his pleasure is to Aziraphale. That is until up to the point where Aziraphale straightens.   
“Close your legs for me, darling…”   
Crowley whines, but shuffles his knees, until his thighs meet. Aziraphale’s hands roam over his back and his butt.   
“You are so lovely, Crowley… I can see every muscle move under your skin. Beautiful…” Aziraphale’s hands come to rest on Crowley’s thighs and press them closer together. He feels the dip of the mattress, when Aziraphale moves closer and then the tip of his cock gliding between Crowley’s spit slicked thighs.   
“Aah… you feel divine, my dearest…” moans Aziraphale and immediately begins to thrust. 

Crowley feels like he is floating. The tip of Aziraphale’s cock is nudging his balls with every thrust of his hips. A little miracle keeps everything slippery and wet. Crowley is trying to press his thighs even closer together, trying to provide as much friction as possible. Aziraphale responds enthusiastically, thrusting faster. He’s gripping Crowley’s hips hard now. The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the bedroom.   
“Touch yourself, my darling…” gasps Aziraphale. Sweat is beading on his forehead, his eyes are closed in pleasure. Crowley doesn’t hesitate a second. Glad he is able to balance his weight on his shoulders, he takes his cock in hand. Precome has gathered at the tip and makes the glide of his hand easy and pleasant. He groans. 

“You naughty little angel… You’re going to soil me when you come between my legs… Shall I make you lick me clean afterwards?”  
“Oh yes…” Aziraphale breathes, his hips snapping quicker and quicker.   
“Of course you would love that. Damn, I would, too…”  
The image sends them both over the edge. Crowley cries out when his second orgasm hits him and he spills into his fist. Aziraphale follows only a few thrusts later, his spend coating Crowley’s balls and thighs. When he is spent, Aziraphale presses his lips between Crowley’s shoulder blades and tries to get his breath back. When he feels the trembling of Crowley’s thighs, he puts both his arms around Crowley and maneuvers them onto their sides, so that Crowley doesn’t have to lie in the wet spot. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Aziraphale asks before he kisses Crowley’s shoulder.   
“Never been better. ’s a very good way to start a day.” Crowley pulls Aziraphale’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.  
Aziraphale chuckles. “Are you awake now or ready for another nap?”  
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a nap, but neither would I say no to some breakfast and coffee.”  
“Shower first? For both of us?”  
“Brilliant.”

After their shared shower Crowley prepares breakfast. He has a sweet tooth today, and in no time the kitchen is filled with the delicious smell of pancakes, tea and coffee. This, thinks Crowley, when they sit together over breakfast, is his favorite meal of the day. Aziraphale is still in his dressing gown, slippers on his feet, his pale curls fluffy like down, happily having his tea and his third pancake. Crowley just loves to watch him this early in the morning here in the privacy of Aziraphale’s tiny kitchen. It’s wonderfully intimate, and Aziraphale is still so unguarded. Crowley knows this will change once he gets dressed. Sometimes it makes Crowley a little sad to watch how Aziraphale’s whole demeanor changes. He wraps himself into the layers of his clothing and wears it like an armour. 

Now, though, he is still the self he only shows to Crowley. The demon is proud that Aziraphale trusts him like he does. He really shouldn’t, he’s a demon after all. But a demon that is hopelessly in love and has been for six millennia now. Crowley puts his elbow on the kitchen table, rests is chin in his palm and just watches Aziraphale finish breakfast while slowly sipping his coffee. When Aziraphale puts down his fork and dabs his mouth with a napkin, he sees Crowley grinning at him.  
“What?”  
“Nothing. I take it you liked the pancakes.”  
“I always love what you cook. You’re far better at it than me.”  
“Had lots of practice. Want another one? There are two left.”  
“God, no. I shouldn’t. If you keep feeding and spoiling me like this I will have to buy new clothes. And I am still perfectly happy with the contents of my closet.”  
“You know, you could try a little more colour from time to time. Like this light blue shirt you sometimes wear.” Crowley loves said shirt. It makes Aziraphale’s eyes shine even brighter.   
“I will consider it.”  
“Hmpf…”   
“Don’t be like that, Crowley. I don’t have your fashion sense.” 

Aziraphale sits back on his chair and drinks his tea while admiring Crowley’s relaxed morning beauty. An early orgasm usually does that to him. The fine lines around his eyes are less visible, and there is this little smile on his face. Aziraphale is sure Crowley doesn’t even notice he’s smiling. And he won’t tell him, because he loves this smile so much. It tells him that Crowley is finally able to let his guard down. He is always hiding behind his sarcasm, his wit and snide remarks. His quick temper and his impatience have definitely improved. And here in their home Crowley doesn’t need his dark glasses. Once they are alone he always takes them off and lets Aziraphale see his magnificent golden eyes. He has always had an expressive face, even with the glasses hiding his eyes. But now without them his love for Aziraphale is showing with every look he takes at him. And Aziraphale loves him even more for the trust he is showing him. In being able to let Aziraphale in on his softer side, his emotions, his devotion for him he offers himself up in a way that is still new and precious. 

“So - what do we make of all our research now? Do you still want to try this new thing between us?” Crowley asks out of the blue. His bare foot beneath the kitchen table nudges Aziraphale’s in a reassuring gesture.   
Aziraphale looks into his mug. Nearly empty. He definitely needs more tea for such a conversation.   
“Erm… Well, I wouldn’t have put all this effort into it if I didn’t,” he admits, “And we already talked about it.” He busies himself with some more tea from the pot on the table and adds a generous splash of milk.   
“Right. Okay.” Crowley still struggles with this whole BDSM thing. When they have made love not an hour ago, he had thought Aziraphale was enjoying himself. If he would ask him now, the angel would certainly say that, yes, of course he has enjoyed it. But he has also explained what he needs on top of their lovemaking. 

Aziraphale looks up now, his gaze flickers. “We… I read about it. We shouldn’t include it in our usual activities. For the beginning it should be clear beforehand if and when something is going to happen.”  
“I think that’s for the best. So… do we make… I don’t know, a date for our first try?” Crowley tries to sound casual and empties his coffee in one big gulp.   
Something flutters deep in Aziraphale’s body. Excitement and a little fear are bubbling up. He looks at Crowley. The demon looks composed, but Aziraphale can see he is as affected as he is. He tries not to show it, but Aziraphale can see the indicators.   
“Yes. What about this weekend? I wanted to keep the shop closed on Saturday anyway.”  
“Sounds good. Enough time for both of us to get used to the thought.”  
Aziraphale nods. Crowley seems to be more than willing to try it. Aziraphale is glad he seems to be a little more at ease with this whole idea. 

“Saturday, then. Let’s have an early dinner together and then…” He lets his words hang in the air between them. Crowley licks his lips, then smiles. Though it’s a little forced.   
“Fine by me. You choose the restaurant.” Crowley knows it’s the easiest to let Aziraphale choose their place for dinner. Although he knows it will be agony to sit through a whole meal, knowing they will be indulging in their new game afterwards…


	5. First steps

Crowley spends Friday night alone in his flat. They have chosen to let this first scene take place at his flat because they are rarely here and the place is not filled with that many memories. None of them wants to create unpleasant memories in Aziraphale’s flat, because that’s where they spend most of their time together and where they both feel good and safe. So they have agreed it would be safer to choose a setting that won’t upset them too much if something (God forbid) goes wrong. 

Crowley’s flat is always immaculate, clean and tidy. Nevertheless Crowley checks the flat twice, makes sure the bed is as soft and cozy as possible should they decide to use it and there is plenty of water, tea, some delicacies for Aziraphale and some books he has stored here for special occasions are waiting for him. When Crowley is finally sure that everything is as perfect as it can be, he goes to fetch his car keys and leaves to pick up Aziraphale for their dinner date. 

Dinner is… strange. Crowley isn’t hungry, but he suspects it can’t be wrong to have at least a starter. Even Aziraphale is nervous and not as happy about a meal as he usually is. He skips the starter and goes directly for the main course. They both only have one glass of wine with their food, not wanting to inebriate themselves too much. Too risky. They want to be as sober as possible. So - yes, this dinner is one of the most tense ones they have had in a very long time. 

The ride home to Crowley’s flat is silent. Aziraphale isn’t even complaining about Crowley’s driving, because the demon drives far more slowly than he used to. Crowley is already trying to get into the right mindset. If he wants to do this with Aziraphale he has to stay as composed and calm as possible, has to take control. He has to try to be stern and determined. Usually he wouldn’t have a problem with that. But since they are together he’s gotten used to drop his mask, to shower Aziraphale with all the love and affection, all the attention he deserves. So he feels like he is trapped inside his own mind, which feels horrible. 

Aziraphale is nervous. More than ever in Crowley’s presence. Something in Crowley’s behavior is different. He seems… a little distant, cool even. Not even in the first days of their friendship has it felt like this. But he supposes it’s part of the game they are about to play. He follows Crowley into the house and into his flat. 

“Take off your shoes and go wait for me in my office,” Crowley says while he deposits his car keys in a bowl on a cupboard in the hallway. Aziraphale hesitates for a second, but then obeys without questioning. Crowley leaves for his bedroom. Aziraphale listens for his footsteps. Crowley hasn’t taken off his boots… Aziraphale takes a look around in Crowley’s office. Like everything in Crowley’s flat his office is as spacious and tidy as every other room. There is a big flatscreen on one wall and a sketch from Leonardo Da Vinci on the other. Behind it is Crowley’s safe, Aziraphale knows that. Dominating the room is Crowley’s desk with the red marble table top and his throne. Aziraphale has always found this throne a little too much, but he knows Crowley loves it. He has always had a liking for the dramatic… 

Crowley takes some measured breaths once he has entered his bedroom. Today is just a test, he reminds himself. But he has something prepared for Aziraphale. He just hopes Aziraphale will respond positively. He pulls open one of the drawers of his bedside table and fetches the little gift he has bought. He considers if he wants to leave his glasses or keep them on. In the end he decides to leave them in the bedroom. He takes off his jacket and checks himself in the mirror. He has left his hair open for their lunch date, but now he gathers a part of it to tie it back into a little bun at the back of his head. He nods at himself. He can do this. He wants to. Aziraphale needs him to. He leaves the bedroom and finds Aziraphale in his office where he is standing in the middle of the room. 

The angel smiles nervously when he sees Crowley has taken off his jacket and changed his hairstyle. The demon goes over to his desk and leans against it.   
“Come here.”   
The tone of these two little words makes Aziraphale tingle all over. Oh… it’s starting… He swallows, but goes over to Crowley who waits for him, hand in his pocket.   
“I bought you something. For occasions like these.”   
He now pulls his hand out of his pocket and stretches it out for Aziraphale to see. 

Aziraphale blinks when he sees what Crowley is holding in his hand.   
“You will wear this during every scene. I will put it on you, and I will remove it. This has nothing to do with any petplay. It's merely a symbol that we are acting out a scene we talked about beforehand. Is that understood?”  
Aziraphale swallows. His eyes are fixed on the collar in Crowley’s hand. The collar is black, embossed shiny scales shimmering coppery in the dim light of the office. The buckle and a d-ring attached to it are golden.   
“Angel - I asked you a question!” Crowley’s voice is stern when he snaps his fingers to get Aziraphale’s attention. Aziraphale’s head whips around. He nods.   
“Yes, my dear,” he breathes.   
“Oh no, angel - I’m not your _dear_ during a scene. You will address me as _sir_. And you will only talk when I give you permission.”  
Aziraphale licks his lips. His heart is racing. “Yes, sir.”  
“Very good, dove.”

Aziraphale gasps. Dove? Where does that come from? Crowley has never called him that. But it sounds amazing, and Aziraphale immediately loves it. He blushes.   
Crowley bends forward now to put the collar around Aziraphale’s neck. The angel flinches, when the leather touches his skin.   
“The leather will warm quickly, don’t be like that. So - some ground rules for today. Our colors are clear, yes?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Your safe word?”  
“Flower.”  
“We’ll start slowly. I want to see if you can be the obedient little pet I want to see. Alright, then. Strip.”

Crowley leaves his spot at the desk, turns his throne around so it’s facing the telly on the wall and takes his seat in it, looking expectantly at Aziraphale. Aziraphale hesitates.   
“Didn’t I make myself clear, pet? Strip! And no miracles! I want to see you naked in 60 seconds. Your time starts now!” Crowley looks at his watch. Aziraphale gets to work in an instant, quickly shedding his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor. There is no time to fold them. When he’s naked, he feels a rush of excitement and shame run through his veins. His hands try to cover his genitals, despite the fact that Crowley has already seen him naked hundreds of times already. The collar around his neck is tight, a constant reminder that this is a situation they talked about and agreed about.

“No, no, no. No hiding from me. Hands behind your back like a good little pet,” Crowley instructs. Aziraphale has no choice but to put his hands behind his back. His cheeks are red. He feels exposed. Crowley smiles. 

“Very well. I’m thirsty. A cup of tea would be nice. You know how I like my tea. Again: no miracles! You know where my kitchen is. Go!”  
Aziraphale hesitates for just a second, then turns around and leaves for the kitchen. His bare feet make soft padding sounds on Crowley’s cold grey concrete floor. 

Crowley listens to the sounds coming from his kitchen. He’s not half as self confident as he tries to appear. He has no real clue what he’s doing here, only trying to act out things, he was told about and has read about. What, if he does something stupid? Something that will leave his angel hurt in what ever imaginable way? He could be too rough. He could say something wrong. There are so many things that can go wrong here! He rubs his slightly sweaty palms over his jeans clad thighs. He understands, why Aziraphale craves this. But it’s still hard to accept it. It’s a great responsibility he has to take. But Aziraphale trusts him. He counts on him to do the right things. And Crowley is determined to do everything in his might to not disappoint his love. 

Meanwhile Aziraphale is pouring the hot water into Crowley’s favorite mug and over the tea bag. Crowley rarely drinks tea, mostly when Aziraphale makes some for him. While he waits, he feels the chill of the kitchen tiles tickle his bare feet. It’s not more than a nuisance, because he’s always warm, but it reminds him of his nakedness. He’s sure he must look ridiculous. His fingertips touch the collar around his neck. A shiver runs down his spine. Never has he thought he would find himself in such a position. He checks for the tea if it has steeped enough. Crowley may like his coffee black like sin, but he likes his tea not too strong - and always with a splash of milk. So Aziraphale removes the tea bag, adds just the right amount of milk and then brings Crowley his tea.

The demon sits in his throne, legs wide, looking composed, his face unreadable. Aziraphale hands him the mug.   
“Your tea. Sir,” he reminds himself of the proper way to address Crowley during a scene and takes a step back. He doesn’t know what to do now, so he just stands there and waits, hands again behind his back. His cock gives an interested twitch and has filled out a bit. 

Crowley takes a sip of his tea and nods. “Well done. I think I’ll watch the new episode of that show that’s so popular at the moment.” He snaps his fingers and the telly turns itself on. The opening titles of this new detective show are already rolling. Aziraphale still stands awkwardly next to Crowley’s throne. He doesn’t dare make a sound, but startles when Crowley says: “Kneel. Next to the chair. Stay upright. Hands behind your back.”

A zing of excitement rushes through Aziraphale’s body, and he does as instructed, close to Crowley’s throne. Crowley leans back and sips his tea while he watches telly. After a few minutes his hand finds its way into Aziraphale white blond curls, and the angel purrs with contentment. Crowley does nothing more but gently caress the angel’s scalp. He is not really concentrated on the detective show on screen. Too aware is he of the presence of the obedient angel kneeling next to his throne. Every now and then he looks down at him. Aziraphale has closed his eyes. He hasn’t moved an inch. Even the hard floor doesn’t seem to bother him. Hm. They should fix that for the next time. As an angel he can kneel like this for hours without being uncomfortable. But a pillow would still be a good idea. Crowley catches a glimpse of Aziraphale’s half hard cock. Maybe a cock ring would be a good idea, too. 

After an hour the end credits of the detective show are rolling. Crowley retreats his hand from Aziraphale’s head and stretches his long limbs. Aziraphale is waiting patiently.   
“Well, that wasn’t so bad. Give me a colour, Aziraphale.”  
“Green, sir.”  
“How are you feeling?”  
“I’m feeling good, sir.”  
Crowley smiles. “Get up and turn toward me.”   
Aziraphale obeys. He gracefully pushes himself up to standing and turns. Crowley reaches up and undoes the buckle of the collar.   
“Well done, darling. We’re finished for today.” Crowley takes the collar off and runs his fingers over Aziraphale’s skin to see if everything is fine. There is a slight imprint on his skin, nothing more. 

Aziraphale blinks.   
“That… was all?”  
“We agreed we would start slowly. And I think you rather enjoyed me taking control over you, didn’t you?”  
“I did. But… I had expected there would be… more.”  
“Greedy little angel. You can have more. Give it time. I promise not to disappoint you. But I have to get used to this new dynamic, too. Is that alright with you?”  
“Of course it is,” Aziraphale smiles.   
“Good.” Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hand and gently pulls the angel into his lap, pressing his nose against the skin of Aziraphale’s neck. He plants a loving kiss onto his warm skin. 

Aziraphale shivers when he feels Crowley’s agile fingers caress his thigh before they wander higher and gently move over his still half erect cock. The touch elicits a moan from him.   
“Hmm… you like that, right? A little reward for being patient?” Crowley murmurs against Aziraphale’s warm neck, before he playfully nips his skin. His hand closes around Aziraphale’s member that’s swelling rapidly under the soft ministrations. A shiver runs through Aziraphale, this feels amazing. Crowley moves his hand up and down now. 

“I was thinking about letting you wear a cock ring for next time. How would you like that? Keep you hard and eager the whole time. Hm? What do you say?” Crowley’s voice is deep and warm, flows like honey from his lips and makes Aziraphale ache.   
“Yes, please…”  
Crowley chuckles. “Very well then. I can do that. Imagine how that would feel. You kneeling next to me, naked, your cock hard and leaking, leaving a little puddle of precome on the floor… Next time I could watch some porn instead of this detective show and touch myself. Make myself come. While you just kneel there and can do nothing but lust after me. Can you imagine that?”  
Aziraphale is panting now. The arousal he has felt for the last 60 minutes is making him hot and wanting. Crowley feels drops of precome well up from Aziraphale’s cock.  
“You wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself. You wouldn't even be allowed to look at me. You can only hear me panting, my hand moving over my cock until I come all over myself. You would be desperate… Maybe I would order you to make a different effort. A nice little cunt. You would be all wet for me, your slick running down your thighs. I could make you wear a bullet vibrator instead. Oh, the little noises you would make…” 

The same noises Aziraphale is making now. Crowley speeds up the movement of his hand and adds a little twist to every upstroke. Aziraphale’s thighs are trembling, and he tries to move his hips to meet Crowley’s movements. Crowley sucks a little mark into the skin of Aziraphale’s shoulder.   
“Oh yes, you would love that. I would tease you for hours and never let you come. Not until I say so. Maybe we should talk about a little desperation play. Orgasm delay. Edging.”   
With every word Aziraphale feels his orgasm building. Crowley’s hand on his cock is a revelation. His world narrows down to the sensation of Crowley pleasuring him in the most perfect of ways.   
“Oh… please, Crowley…”  
“Please what, my dove?” 

Crowley hasn’t intended to make this a part of their new dynamic. But it seems it has come naturally and feels absolutely right. And Aziraphale is very obviously enjoying every second of it. The new pet name lets a wave of affection and new found lust surge through Aziraphale’s body.   
“Please, let me come… please let me!” Aziraphale begs, out of breath, sweating and loving it.   
“Oh, I really think you will like this. Fine, then. We’ll try it. Next time. I will tease you and arouse you to no end. And you will only come when I allow it. Or you will be punished. That will be fun. Right, dove?”  
“Yes! Oh yes, please!”  
“Come for me, Aziraphale. Let go and come,” orders Crowley, voice full of affection. Aziraphale goes rigid. He is still so used to obeying orders that he can’t not come. He cries out, when Crowley’s skilled hand wrings a powerful orgasm out of him. He’s coming in thick spurts over his thighs and belly and Crowley’s hand, panting and shaking until Crowley has guided him through his orgasm and the aftershocks and then pulls him really close and cards the fingers of his clean hand through Aziraphale’s pale curls. 

“Shh… I’ve got you. I’m here. You did so well. That was perfect, darling. So perfect for me. You can trust me. We’ll work everything out. I’ll take care of you, and you’ll be so good for me. My precious angel…”   
Aziraphale pants into Crowley’s shoulder, grateful he doesn’t have to show his flushed face. But this is exactly what he wants. He has gotten a little taste today. It still wasn’t the whole experience, of that he is sure. But he is also sure that Crowley will do everything for him to make this work. 

“You’re still trembling.” Crowley spreads little kisses over Aziraphale’s shoulder and neck and smiles.   
“Let’s clean you up and talk about it. Alright?”  
“W-what about you?” Aziraphale asks. He can feel Crowley’s erection pushing against the zip of his jeans.   
“I’m fine, I can wait. It will go away in a minute.” Crowley retreats a little now. He wants to see Aziraphale’s face. The angel is looking at him as if he can’t believe what has just happened. He lifts both his hands to cup Crowley’s cheeks.   
“I love you so much, Crowley, dearest… You have no idea how much.” Then he bends forward to kiss him. Crowley smiles into the kiss. If this little encounter has made Aziraphale that happy… well, then is willing to try more for him. But then he giggles and wipes his soiled hand on Aziraphale’s thigh.   
“Up you get. You’re all sticky. I know you don’t like being sticky, and I don’t like to have cum on my jeans. Hop, I’ll make us some more tea.”  
“Very good. Sir,” Aziraphale grins and hurries to the bathroom. 

Crowley looks after him, then at his cum covered hand. Being sure Aziraphale can’t watch him now, he brings his hand to his mouth and quickly licks it clean, while he cups himself over his jeans with the other. He has said he could wait. And he can. He himself has always enjoyed a little edging. But the temptation to shove his hand into his trousers and quickly stroke himself to completion is there. He moans around his own fingers, when he imagines Aziraphale doing this for him. Following his order. Maybe this new dynamic between them will have more benefits than he thought possible. When he hears the bathroom door, he drops his hand and wipes his mouth, before he gets up from his throne. Aziraphale is coming back and begins to dress, while Crowley goes to wash his hands and then begins to prepare tea.


	6. A lesson in patience

They don’t try anything more for a few days and make love like they always have. And they are fine with it. Crowley doesn’t want to put too much pressure on either of them. He feels a new kind of responsibility for Aziraphale and their relationship. But he also begins to prepare for the next encounter. He visits some of the shops in Soho who can provide everything they might need for the next try. But Crowley is not content with the quality of what he is searching for, and so he turns to some exclusive online shops and is very pleased with what they have to offer. He spends a nearly ridiculous amount of money and waits impatiently for the delivery - discreetly packed in boxes without any hint from where they come from. He opens them alone in his flat, curious and intrigued and willing to try everything out to pleasure his angel. 

Some first concerns manifest themselves, when he tries out the floggers, the paddle, the riding crop on his own bare thigh. Hell, this really is unpleasant. He’s not sure if Aziraphale has thought this through to the end. They will have to approach this carefully. He is more pleased with the ropes he has chosen. They’re smooth and a very good quality when he lets them glide through his palm and tests their strength. The vibrators intrigue him. He has no idea if Aziraphale has ever used such things on himself. But Crowley has, and therefore he has picked only the best for their next session. He is very tempted to try at least one of them out on himself, but resists in the end. These toys are for both of them. He can use his own if the need arises. He will introduce Aziraphale to the pleasures of modern technology in their bedroom when the time is right.

The rest count as aids and accessories: high quality lube, some cock rings, a pair of padded white leather handcuffs, a ball gag. Crowley is not sure if he really wants to use a ball gag on Aziraphale, but if the angel wants to try, then he is at least prepared… For their next session he chooses a cock ring, as promised, and the cuffs. Just to be sure. They are still trying things out. They shouldn’t try too much too soon.

As expected the cock ring is very much appreciated by Aziraphale. The moment Crowley closes the collar around his neck, the angel’s whole posture changes. He automatically bows his head and strips without being told to. It’s Crowley who closes the cock ring around the base of Aziraphale’s cock, gives it a few good strokes until it’s fully hard, and just like last time tells him to kneel next to his throne. But this time he has something different on his mind. 

„I’ve bought something more, dove. I know you would surely prefer some Oscar Wilde. And I don’t have anything against good old Oscar. Maybe we try him some time later. But for today I brought this.“  
Crowley hands Aziraphale a book. The angel stays silent, makes only a small sound of surprise. It’s the memoirs of Giacomo Casanova. Crowley is fairly sure he has seen the whole of it, more than 4.500 pages, in Aziraphale’s bookshop. This book though contains only excerpts from everything he has written.  
Aziraphale looks up at him, smiles. „I know you’ve known him, sir.“  
„I have, indeed. I have marked the part where I want you to start reading to me. Go on, pet.“

Aziraphale opens the paperback book with the same reverence and care he applies to every book. He begins to read, and his well known, beloved voice fills the room. Crowley closes his eyes and just listens for a while. He himself in not an avid reader. He owns some books, mostly astronomy, but he never reads novels. Some poetry he has read and memorized, mostly thinking about Aziraphale. One day he wants to recite it for Aziraphale, and he will. He has made a promise to himself. But now he only wants to listen to Aziraphale read. 

The erotic adventures of Casanova are legendary. Crowley had witnessed some of them, even initiated some. And so he remembers some of the scenes Aziraphale reads. At one point Crowley cups his bulge with his hand and applies gentle pressure. He groans softly. He would very much like to wank now. Chase his own pleasure, just like he said to Aziraphale a fortnight ago when they tried their first little scene. He opens his eyes and looks down at Aziraphale. The angel is still reading, but not uninvolved. On the contrary. Crowley smiles when he sees a sheen of sweat on Aziraphale’s skin, his cock standing hard and proud. Drops of precome have gathered beneath it on the floor. What a sight he is! Crowley's cock twitches beneath his hand, and he gives in to his want. 

Aziraphale reads on and doesn’t dare to lift his gaze from they pages of the book. But he hears Crowley shift on his throne, the clink of the belt buckle, the soft pop of the button slipping free and then the telltale sound of a zipper being opened. Excitement rushes through Aziraphale’s body. He feels a new bead of precome leaking from the tip of his cock. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Crowley wriggle, spread his thighs a little wider and the soft whisper of fabric when he pulls his cock free off the confines of his pants. A sigh escapes Crowley’s lips when he wraps his hand around his cock and gives it the first languid stroke. 

The knowledge what Crowley is doing makes Aziraphale’s mouth water. He stops reading for a moment to swallow. The slow movement of Crowley’s fist over his own cock is a soft blur at the corner of his field of vision. Aziraphale tries to suppress every reaction, but a shudder runs downs his spine. Is Crowley really keeping his promise? Will he really wank himself to completion while Aziraphale reads to him? 

“Everything alright, dove? Keep on reading. You’re doing fine,” Crowley drawls, but there is a well known hitch of breath, a little shaky, that tells Aziraphale how turned on Crowley is.  
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir…” Aziraphale keeps on reading, but it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. He stumbles over some words - something he never does, and that makes Crowley smile. He keeps his steady, slow pace, spreading the wetness seeping from his slit with his thumb over the head of his cock. He waits a few more minutes and wills himself to take his hand from his cock.

“Actually I don’t know why I do all the work myself. Put that book aside. Time to put that mouth of yours to some better use, pet.” Crowley is glad his voice is steady and doesn’t give away how turned on he really is. But the confines of his clothes are now a nuisance, so he toes off his boots while Aziraphale hastily closes the book and turns towards his mate. Crowley shoves his trousers and pants down over his bony hips and without being told to, Aziraphale greedily helps him out of both. With a sigh Crowley spreads his thighs wide to make room for him.  
“To work, then. You know how I like it,” Crowley says and smirks. Needing no more encouragement, Aziraphale shuffles closer on his knees and bends over Crowley’s cock. He inhales deeply, enjoys the scent of Crowley’s warm skin, the musk of his arousal and smiles before he sticks out his tongue and swirls it around the wet head of Crowley’s cock. He moans at the salty-bitter tang that explodes on his taste buds. Crowley bites his bottom lip while he watches, and his cock twitches and bumps against the tip of Aziraphale’s nose. Aziraphale smiles and happily takes Crowley’s cock between his pink lips. 

Crowley groans. One of the benefits of not having to breathe and not having a gag reflex is that they are both able to give the most amazing oral. And amazing is the right word for what Aziraphale does at the moment. He is in no way the innocent angel Crowley has taken him for during all the time they’ve known each other. Aziraphale has had his fill of human lovers on earth and so he knows exactly what he’s doing. And has also learnt everything there is to learn about what Crowley likes and what drives him mad with lust and want. This knowledge is put to good use now. It only takes a few minutes until Crowley is panting and writhing in his throne. His hands grab the armrests so tight his knuckles have turned white. Aziraphale alternates between the expert play of his lips and tongue, the perfect suction he applies to Crowley’s cock. He feels the quivering of Crowley’s muscles. He’s close. It won’t take much to make him come. If he could smile with his mouth full of cock, he would. Since he can’t, he just tries to make it as good as possible and takes Crowley down to the root, his nose pressing into Crowley’s dark red pubic hair and swallows. 

Crowley gasps for breath when he feels the constriction around his cock, his hips arch on their own and his cockhead nudges the back of Aziraphale’s throat. The angel swallows again, and that’s it for Crowley. With a groan he comes in thick spurts down Aziraphale’s throat who swallows greedily everything Crowley is giving him and dutifully licks him clean without being told to. The gentle lapping makes Crowley flinch with overstimulation, but nevertheless he reaches down to run his fingers through Aziraphale’s pale curls and smiles.  
“Well done, pet…” he breathes. Aziraphale looks up, licks his lips and looks like he has just had the best dessert on the planet. 

As much as Crowley wants to pull Aziraphale up and kiss him like mad now, taste his own seed in their kiss, he knows he is still in charge and shouldn’t fall out of character now. After he has composed himself he snaps his fingers and the cock ring Aziraphale had been wearing is gone. Aziraphale gasps in relief.  
“Touch yourself, dove,” Crowley demands. He folds his hands together and lifts them until the nails of his thumbs touch his lower lip. He looks like he is praying and observes how Aziraphale tentatively closes his hand around his own prick. He shudders at the touch, waits for more instructions.  
“Go on, pet. You are allowed to move your hand. But you are not allowed to come without permission.” Crowley’s voice is as stern as is his expression. 

Aziraphale can’t suppress a little moan when he begins to stroke himself. Now that the cock ring is gone the need to orgasm is even stronger. He is already close. Reading out Casanova’s erotic adventures combined with a wanking demon and then sucking said demon off tends to do this to him. So Aziraphale keeps his strokes light, trying not to work himself up too much. Crowley’s order was clear: He is not allowed to come.  
“What are you doing there, pet? You’re rarely so hesitant.”  
This is going to be… difficult. How shall he manage wanking in earnest without coming? There is already the telltale feeling in his pelvis, the tightening of muscles.  
“Sir! I’m too close, sir!” Aziraphale has no chance but to hope Crowley lets him come - despite what he has said only minutes earlier.  
“Already desperate? You want to come?”  
“Yes! Please, sir, let me come!” Aziraphale is trembling, trying to starve off his orgasm. 

“Hands off!” Crowley bellows, and Aziraphale obeys without questioning. His hands ball into fists, he is panting and sweating, but he can feel the burning need to orgasm fade. A little.  
“Look at me!”

Aziraphale wasn’t even aware that he has closed his eyes, but now they fly open. He looks at Crowley who is standing up now, pulling his pants and his jeans up with the movement and tucking himself away, straightening his clothes. Then he circles Aziraphale as if he is prey, watches him intently, touches his painfully hard cock with a fingertip and finally comes to stand right behind the angel. His lips nearly touch the shell of Aziraphale’s ear when he says: “I will let you come. But before I do that you have to wait. No touching yourself. No getting yourself off otherwise. You have no permission to come until I allow you to. Tomorrow. Give me a colour.”  
Aziraphale takes a shuddering breath. “Green. I can wait, sir.”  
“You really think so? Well… We will see. You’ll get a reward, if you can hold yourself back.” 

His voice changes, becomes much softer, when he now takes two steps until he is in front of Aziraphale. His golden eyes search for Aziraphale’s gaze.  
“If anything becomes too much, you tell me. You can always use your colours or your safe word. Alright, darling?”  
“Yes. But I’m fine. I will be fine.” Aziraphale feels warmth pool in his belly. Crowley cares about him. Wants him to enjoy this.  
“I trust you, then.” Crowley gives him a sweet, loving kiss, while he reaches for the collar and lets his fingertips run over the warm leather and then over the skin of Aziraphale’s neck.  
“I’ll leave this on until tomorrow. Alright?” he whispers and strokes Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale nods. He understands the meaning of the collar and that their scene will only be over when one of them safe words or when Crowley removes the collar. He feels all tingly inside. This is something entirely new to him.  
Crowley smiles and gives him another kiss. “Good. Now get dressed. I wouldn’t want you to get cold.” 

Getting dressed is a little uncomfortable, since Aziraphale is still achingly hard. He could miracle his erection away, but this would be cheating, wouldn’t it? So he tries to ignore it, and at some point it does in fact go away. But every time Aziraphale thinks about the fact that he is not allowed to touch himself, least of all find release, the arousal spikes again. The collar is a constant reminder, too. With every move he feels the warm leather on his skin. But it feels strangely comforting. Crowley surely knows what he is doing. He is only taking care of him. Loves him. But thinking about all this sends sparks of desire and lust through him, and Crowley knows that. Bastard. But Aziraphale has agreed. And so they spend the whole day, the evening and the night very pointedly ignoring the fact that Aziraphale is constantly aroused. Crowley doesn’t acknowledge this fact, plays it cool. It drives Aziraphale mad, but he somehow manages to keep himself together. 

They stay the night at Crowley’s flat. Crowley is well aware how on edge Aziraphale is. He’s fidgeting all evening, and when they go to bed, Aziraphale keeps his pants on while Crowley slips under the duvet completely naked.  
“Will you be alright during the night, angel?” Crowley asks and caresses Aziraphale’s cheek, a smirk on his lips.  
Aziraphale heaves a deep sigh, but nods. “Of course I will. It’s not that I haven’t spend long periods without engaging in sexual activities. I think I can last one night.”  
“Are you sure? That was before we were together. And I am here.” Crowley’s hand moves away from Aziraphale’s cheek. His fingertip traces Aziraphale’s jawline, his mouth, wanders deeper over his throat. Aziraphale swallows hard. Oh, he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy… 

Crowley knows he has to be careful. He just wants to tease, remind Aziraphale of their agreement. Not that the angel would need that - the collar is already a constant reminder. But Crowley has to admit he likes this game, feels powerful. But he also feels a great deal of responsibility. He better not fuck this up. Aziraphale’s trust in him is immense. He should never disappoint him or take advantage. 

Crowley’s gentle fingers have already reached Aziraphale’s sensitive nipples. He circles one of them with featherlight touches and kisses Aziraphale’s neck. He can feel his pulse racing beneath his lips and can’t suppress a smile. This is working out beautifully.  
“So sensitive, dove… You will beg me for release come morning, my angel…” Crowley whispers against the warm skin of Aziraphale’s neck. The angel moans. He’s rock hard again, his hips twitch. He can feel beads of precome wet the fabric of his pants.  
“Crowley…” he breathes.  
“Yes, angel? Still green?”  
“Hmph… yes…”  
“Alright.” Crowley stops his gentle teasing and kisses Aziraphale on the lips, then smirks at him.  
“I’m going to sleep now. Good night, dove.”  
“Good night…” Aziraphale swallows hard and watches, how Crowley snuggles into his pillow, reaches over for his hand and closes his eyes. This will be one of the longest nights of his existence. 

At some point during the night Crowley lets go of Aziraphale’s hand and turns his back to him, lightly snoring. Aziraphale is wide awake. His cock has softened, thank someone, but he’s still agitated. What will Crowley do in the morning? How long will he draw this out? He surely will keep his promise to let him come? This is something Aziraphale has never experienced. Denying himself something has never been his strength. Even thinking about the fact that there is something he can’t have makes his desire spark again. He sighs heavily and decides to distract himself from this simmering arousal by getting up and making himself some tea. Maybe find something to read. He has deposited a bunch of books at Crowley’s. He should find something to occupy himself with. 

When Crowley wakes he’s alone in bed. It’s very early, not even six. He usually sleeps longer. He doesn’t know what has woken him, but he’s immediately alert. He leaves the bed and shrugs on his black silk dressing gown before he goes searching for Aziraphale. 

He finds the angel in front of the telly, watching some stupid make-over show on Netflix.  
“What are you doing here? Don’t watch this stupid crap,” he says, voice still a little hoarse from sleep. Aziraphale practically jumps, when he hears Crowley’s voice.  
“Crowley! Oh, I just didn’t want to disturb your sleep, so I thought it best to leave you alone.”  
“That’s not how this works, dove. Distracting yourself with this,” he gestures to the telly, “Is not what this little game is about! Did it at least work?”  
“Not really,” answers Aziraphale and lifts the pillow he had placed over his lap. Crowley smirks. He can see the line of Aziraphale’s hard cock straining against the fabric of this trousers. 

“Angel, angel…” Crowley shakes his head. “Well, I was planning to get you off first thing in the morning. But now I need some coffee first. Let’s have breakfast.”  
“B-breakfast?” Aziraphale stammers, “And you said nothing about staying in bed with you.”  
“Don’t try to argue with me, dove. It will only make the situation worse. Breakfast.” And with this he turns around and leaves for the kitchen.

It’s the most uncomfortable breakfast Aziraphale has ever had. Crowley insists on a cooked breakfast. He’s still in his dressing gown, Aziraphale fully dressed and achingly hard. They prepare breakfast together like they always do, and it’s torture. Crowley doesn’t address the state Aziraphale’s in. When they sit down at the table Crowley takes his time to eat and has two mugs of coffee while Aziraphale tries to sit as still as possible. He’s already considering to use one his colours, when finally Crowley gets up and stretches his impossibly long limbs.  
“Well, angel, let’s have a shower. Together. And then I’ll take care of you. Colour?”  
“Green, sir.” Aziraphale is on his feet and on his way to the bathroom faster than ever before. Crowley chuckles and follows him more slowly. 

Crowley joins Aziraphale in his big shower. The water has plastered Aziraphale’s pale curls to his skin, his cheeks are rosy, his eyes dark with lust. He is still wearing the collar. His cock is rock hard, and Crowley smiles, stepping under the spray of warm water and sighs deeply.  
“Ah… lovely. Hand me my shampoo, dove.”  
Aziraphale does, and watches impatiently how Crowley washes his hair. The scent of lemon and lavender fills the cubicle. When has the sight of Crowley following such a simple task ever been this arousing? Crowley rinses the shampoo out of his hair and looks at Aziraphale.  
“What are you waiting for? On your knees. I want your lips around my cock. No touching yourself.”

With a moan Aziraphale sinks to his knees. Crowley’s cock is half hard, but swells to its full impressive girth and length once Aziraphale has sucked it into his mouth. Crowley gasps and has to steady himself with one hand on the wall. He looks down and nearly comes on the spot. Aziraphale is greedily sucking his cock, his head bobbing back and forth. Crowley can see Aziraphale’s own erection. He’s proud of his angel for being patient. It takes all his willpower to keep himself from coming. He gradually begins to move his hips to thrust carefully into Aziraphale’s talented mouth. Aziraphale groans, when Crowley reaches down and puts his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek.  
“Look at me, dove…” he orders, and Aziraphale obeys willingly. Crowley lick his lips. What a sight… Aziraphale is so beautiful and eager to please him. Crowley lets him continue for a minute longer, until he can’t take much more. 

“Up. Come here.”  
Aziraphale pulls off his cock, then gets to his feet. Crowley pulls him into a messy kiss while he reaches between their bodies and closes his free hand around both their cocks.  
Aziraphale gasps into their kiss, but Crowley keeps him firmly in place with his hand on Aziraphale’s neck now. He moves his other hand in a quick rhythm. The feel of Aziraphale’s hard shaft touching his will never lose its effect on Crowley. They are finally allowed to have this. They don’t have to hold back anymore. How he loves his angel… not only for the sex, spectacular as it may be. He loves everything about him. Loving someone for so long makes you appreciate everything you have now. This thought nearly sends him over the edge. He pulls away from their kiss, his hand on their cocks tightens.  
“Come for me, dove!” he orders, and that’s all it takes. Aziraphale gladly lets go. He moans loudly, and Crowley feels his cock swell and twitch. He crashes their mouths together again and comes, too, his knees trembling with the force of his orgasm. They pant into each others mouths, hearts racing, both shaking from the aftershocks. 

Finally Crowley begins to laugh and plants kisses all over Aziraphale’s face. “That was amazing…”  
He snaps his fingers, and the collar around Aziraphale’s neck is gone. Aziraphale sinks against Crowley and finds himself in his loving embrace, the demon’s hands caressing his back.  
“You did so well, darling… I’m so proud of you…” Crowley kisses Aziraphale’s cheek and pulls him as close as possible. They stay like this for a moment, then Crowley retreats a little and pushes the wet hair from Aziraphale’s forehead and looks at him.  
“It wasn’t too much, angel?”  
Aziraphale smiles at him. “No, it was good. I liked it.”  
“Good. Let’s get cleaned then. Let me wash you. You earned a reward.” 

Aziraphale enjoys Crowley washing his hair and his whole body. It feels unbelievably good to be taken care of. When they are both clean, Crowley wraps Aziraphale into the biggest, fluffiest towel he owns. Aziraphale yelps when Crowley scoops him into his arms and carries him back to bed. They snuggle together and enjoy the warmth and afterglow, silently caressing and kissing each other. 

Finally Crowley asks: “How was that? I already asked if it was too much. But I need to know more.”  
Aziraphale sighs and kisses Crowley’s neck. “I never thought it could be like this.”  
“So you think this could be it? That’s what you need?”  
Aziraphale blushes. “It felt… it felt good to let go. You taking control and… taking care of me. I trust you to know what I need. So… I think this is the right way.”  
“You want to try more,” Crowley says, but makes it a question with a raised eyebrow.  
“Absolutely.”  
“Good. What was the most… important thing? What was most arousing for you?”  
“Like I said: You controlling me. Telling me what to do. How to behave. To put me in my place. How to… please you.”  
“So you like to please me.”  
“Of course I like to please you. And this is… part of the whole thing, isn’t it?”  
Crowley thinks about this for a second until he realizes - yes, it definitely is.  
“I can’t deny how much I like this part, too.”  
“Then we should explore more.”


	7. Apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: flogging, whipping, safe word use

The ropes are tight enough to be uncomfortable - which is the point. Crowley is not using hypnosis. He is far better than that. His ability to imply and suggest things is unmatched. He has successfully convinced Aziraphale that he won’t be able to get rid of his bindings. How is still a mystery to Aziraphale, but in this case it’s a good thing. Crowley has chosen ocean blue, soft hemp ropes that look beautiful on Aziraphale’s pale skin. He had hoped it would look good, but this sight is truly something special. This is the first time he has tied Aziraphale up. The angel is naked, lying spread eagle face down on Crowley’s bed. His wrists and ankles are tied to the bed posts Crowley has miracled for this special occasion, and Crowley can clearly see the tension in his body. He is awaiting his first punishment. 

They have talked about it. Have negotiated the scene. Aziraphale had asked to be treated rougher, to be put into his place. They have gone through Crowley’s purchases he had made online, and Aziraphale had decided he wanted to try two of the items Crowley has bought. And now here he is, tense and nervous, helpless after Crowley’s whispered and hissed words. Crowley has taken off his shirt, shoes and socks but is still in his jeans. In his hand is one of the floggers he purchased, and he is running the fingers of his other hand through the many black leather tails. He’s nervous, bites his lip and doesn’t know how to start. His gaze follows the single golden line that runs down Aziraphale’s spine - his angelic mark, that only shows when he wants it to. Will the mark stand out, once Crowley begins? He will find out… 

“Are you ready, dove?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Your safe word?”  
“Flower, sir.”  
“Alright. I expect you to take this part of your punishment in silence. Is that understood?”  
“Understood, sir.”  
Crowley licks his lips. He’s a little anxious. How is he to know if he does this right? If it gets too much for Aziraphale? He has to trust in their arrangement. He has to trust that Aziraphale will tell him to stop, should it be too much. But he has to start somewhere. And he has to do it now. So he lifts his arm with the flogger for the first blow. 

When the tails comes into touch with Aziraphale’s naked butt, the sound they make rings in Crowley’s ears, he sees the pale flesh jiggle and how Aziraphale flinches. Crowley nearly drops the flogger, only manages to catch it before it hits the ground. He watches for a second, waits for a response from Aziraphale. There is none, only his breathing is a little deeper.   
“You alright, dove?”  
“Yes, sir…” Aziraphale sounds out of breath. Yet? Hm… But he gave his consent. So Crowley lifts the flogger again. This time the tails land on Aziraphale’s back. Crowley can see the reddish marks they leave on Aziraphale’s pale skin. The angel doesn’t try to get away from the blows, only flinches and tries to breath through it. Crowley feels strangely out of his body. What is he doing here? Is he really hitting his beloved Aziraphale? How did they come here? But he tries to focus again. He shouldn’t fuck this up. Aziraphale trusts him to do the right thing and bring him pleasure in the end.

The flogger warms up Aziraphale’s skin quiet well. His back and buttocks are already a flushed pink. Aziraphale squirms and pants. Crowley is a little torn. He is no fan of hurting Aziraphale. But the angel had asked him to be a little rougher. They talked about it at length, and Crowley had expressed his concern. Aziraphale had assured him he would be fine and that he absolutely wanted to try it as a next step. A next step to what exactly, though, had still been a little vague. Maybe Crowley should have insisted on more details, but now it’s too late anyway. And he had in fact bought all the supplies to be prepared. He just hadn’t anticipated he would use them so soon. 

The flogger lands on Aziraphale’s buttocks for a last time. Aziraphale moans. He writhes on the bed, but the ropes keep him in place. Crowley can’t tell if he is aroused or if he is just in pain.   
“Colour, pet?”  
“Green, sir.”   
Crowley can see how Aziraphale shifts, and then he is able to see a little more of his face, which is good. The confirmation that he is fine soothes Crowley’s nerves a little. So he throws the flogger away and reaches for the riding crop. They had negotiated a lot about what to use and what was out of the question. The riding crop seemed to very much tick one of Aziraphale’s boxes. Crowley was hesitant, but Aziraphale insisted he wanted to try. And so Crowley lifts the riding crop and tries it out without hitting anything. It’s hissing through the air. Crowley can see Aziraphale tense up again. He has to be sure this is what Aziraphale wants and asks: “Zira - you can change your mind when ever you want. You know that, right?”  
“I know, sir…”   
Crowley licks his lips. He is allowed to change his mind, too… But he promised to try everything. And so he lifts his arm.   
“Alright, dove. I want you to count for me.”

The sound of the riding crop hitting Aziraphale’s skin rings in Crowley’s ears. Aziraphale cries out in pain and shock. He had anticipated it would hurt. And he is not afraid of pain. But this whole situation is new to him, and the hit came as a surprise. It burns and stings. And Aziraphale is fairly sure Crowley hasn’t hit him full force, though. 

“What was that, pet? I didn’t hear you count!” Crowley reprimands him.   
“One! One, sir! I’m sorry, sir…”  
“You have to do better! Did I make myself clear?”  
“Yes, sir!”   
Instead of saying anything more, Crowley lifts the riding crop again.   
“Two!”

The next blows come quick. Crowley can watch how angry red welts are forming on Aziraphale’s back. His golden mark seems to glow in between all the angry red. He grits his teeth. Aziraphale must be in pain, but if this is what he wants, then who is Crowley to deny him? Though he still doesn’t understand why Aziraphale wanted to try this. He doesn’t see the logic in it… He lands the next blow.   
“Six!” Aziraphale’s voice is hoarse, his body is shaking. Crowley hesitates. Are these sobs? Is Aziraphale crying?   
“Aziraphale - give me a colour,” he demands.   
Aziraphale hiccups and swallows. “G-green. I’m fine.”  
Crowley takes a deep breath. He has to believe his angel, then. But it’s hard to carry on when he sees his lover like this. And asking more questions will maybe pull him out of his headspace and end the scene. 

“Alright then - don’t forget to count, pet.” With this he lifts the riding crop again. He sees Aziraphale flinch, when the tongue of the crop hits his red skin and adds another ugly mark to the others already adorning his back.   
“Seven!”  
If he’s honest with himself, Crowley wants nothing more than to throw this damned riding crop away. He wants to take the angel in his arms, loosen the ropes and comfort him, soothe his heated skin with gentle kisses and wipe away the tears that are just at this very moment starting to roll down Aziraphale’s face. Crowley swallows hard. He feels bile rising in his throat. This is not right. This is not right for him. But Aziraphale wants it. And he would do everything for Aziraphale. Nevertheless he is considering to safeword. This one damned word is like a mantra in his head. He could say it. He should say it if he wants to end this. If he wants to admit that this is too much, too early for him. Aziraphale would understand. He wouldn’t be cross with him. But he would be disappointed. Surely he would be. On the other hand… he would be proud if Crowley ended a scene he wasn’t comfortable with. 

Crowley lifts the riding crop, delivers another blow.   
“Eight!” Aziraphale’s voice cracks, and that’s it for Crowley.   
“Apple. Apple!” Crowley says loudly, drops the riding crop and snaps his fingers to loosen the ropes around Aziraphale’s wrists and ankles. He suddenly feels cold, numb and ashamed. He looks at Aziraphale’s back. At all the angry red. He did this. He did this to his angel. Oh Satan, what has he done… He backs away.   
“I… I can’t… Aziraphale… apple. Do you hear me?”   
Aziraphale pushes himself up and off the bed. A fingersnap, and he is wrapped in his cozy tartan dressing gown. He wipes his face with both hands, looking concerned. He sniffles, then reaches out a hand. 

“Crowley - my darling, what’s the matter?”   
“I can’t do this. I… I’m sorry. Don’t make me go on, Zira. Don’t make me, please,” Crowley begs, his voice hoarse. Aziraphale comes closer, he looks devastated when he sees the look on Crowley’s face.   
“Oh darling, no need to apologize! That’s what a safe word is for. We agreed about that. It’s fine. Just don’t run away now. Let’s talk about it. Come. Sit down with me.”

It feels wrong for Crowley to be pulled down and to curl into Aziraphale’s embrace. He should be the one in charge, like Aziraphale has asked him to. He should be the one to comfort Aziraphale. And to make everything worse Crowley feels the telltale sting of tears in his eyes. He very rarely cries. But right now he can’t help it. The emotions are like a wave crashing over him, drowning him, leaving him helpless and confused. Aziraphale is his only anchor right now, holding him and keeping him from getting lost. He begins to sob, he can’t fight it. 

Aziraphale is at a loss what has just happened. His hands run soothingly over Crowley’s bare back and through his hair.   
“Shh… it’s alright. It’s fine. Nothing bad happened. I’m with you. I’m always with you. Don’t be scared. I’m proud of you. It was very brave to safeword. You did the right thing…” Aziraphale carries on to murmur reassuring words and holds Crowley in his arms. The demon clings to him, his face buried in Aziraphale’s shoulder. He knows he makes a mess, but Aziraphale doesn’t seem to mind tears and snot. 

Crowley feels his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He should’t be this weak. He has no clue how to explain this to Aziraphale. His crying slowly subsides, and he sniffles and pulls away, trying to hide his face. He wipes at his cheeks with both hands until Aziraphale reaches into the pocket of his dressing gown and hands him a perfectly ironed handkerchief. Crowley takes it and wipes his face clean, blows his nose. 

“I’m sorry, angel… Don’t know what came over me…”  
“It’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?”  
“No. But I suppose we should. We agreed about that…”  
“Lie down with me, my dear. I suppose we won’t complete the scene today, right?”  
“I don’t think so…” Crowley admits and watches how Aziraphale takes off his collar and gently puts it on the bedside table. Then they both lie down, facing each other, Aziraphale in his dressing gown, Crowley still in his tight jeans, chest bare. Aziraphale wants to pull him close again, but Crowley shakes his head. He pulls the duvet up to cover them both and sinks his hands into it. He avoids Aziraphale’s gaze. 

“Don’t stress yourself, Crowley. One of us using his safe word had to happen one day. That’s what a safe word is for.” Aziraphale longs to touch Crowley, but he doesn’t dare. Crowley looks like he wants to flee and avoids his gaze. He has successfully avoided thinking about this part of his history for a long time. Now old memories flood back into his mind… 

„You have no clue what it really is like. In hell…“ Crowley murmurs.   
„You don’t have to talk about it right now if it’s too uncomfortable.“  
„No. I have to get this off my chest if this is to work between us. No matter if we carry on with this new dynamic or not. I don’t…“ he takes a shuddering breath, „I don’t want any more secrets between us, angel.“   
Aziraphale now reaches out his hand, and Crowley takes it. „I will forever be grateful that you’re with me. And I really want to give you all you need. But… today I realized that there are limits I didn’t know I had.“  
Aziraphale doesn’t say anything. He patiently waits for Crowley to open up, find the right words. 

It takes a few more moments. Aziraphale sees the conflicting feelings on Crowley’s features and then his eyes are closing. He can’t look at his angel while he tells him some of his most horrid memories.

„What happened today, what I did to you… It reminded me… of the past.”  
Aziraphale feels like someone has emptied a bucket of ice cold water over his head. Oh no… Has he really awoken memories that will now haunt them and torture his beloved Crowley? He wants to stop Crowley from telling him more, but knows he can’t anymore. Pandora’s box has been opened, there is no way of closing it again now. 

„It was shortly after my fall,“ Crowley says, his voice steady but low. „After the fall… There was chaos everywhere. Lucifer and the others… it was pure madness. Everyone was shouting and screaming. Some were crying. There were feathers everywhere. Some of the just newly fallen angels tried to rip their feathers out when they saw they had turned black. There was blood, it was dark and the smell… It had nothing to do with hell how it is today. It was just awful. Everything hurt.“

Aziraphale listens silently. What Crowley is describing right now has nothing to do with the words he once said to Aziraphale back in St. James’s Park when they had their argument about the holy water Crowley had asked for. Sauntered vaguely downwards? Aziraphale had always assumed it hadn’t been like that. And obviously he has been right. Crowley had fallen like all the others. Had suffered immense pain and fear. 

“Hell is a place where pain and suffering can easily become part of your everyday life. Especially in the early days. We were all fallen. The only one standing out was of course Lucifer,” Crowley continues. Oh, he remembers this time so well… Lucifer had been one of God’s favourites. Beautiful, strong, intelligent, independent, powerful and special among the other archangels. Being cast out of heaven, fallen from grace, had changed him forever.   
„Nobody dared to speak up against him. He was the most powerful. No one else questioned that. But every other of the fallen ones tried to secure himself some place. Establish an order. And since no rule applied to us anymore, there was a lot of physical violence.“ 

Crowley takes a shuddering breath. He finally opens his eyes, and Aziraphale feels himself shiver.   
“Demons can beat the shit out of you until your back is in tatters, then snap their fingers to heal you and start all over again. I’ve seen it happen in hell more than enough for a lifetime.”  
“But this… it didn’t happen… to you?” Aziraphale’s question is merely more than a whisper. He’s afraid of the answer.   
“No. I was always good at talking my way out of it. And otherwise tried to stay out of trouble. But there is no way to avoid all the trials, the punishments. Making the others watch is a pretty effective way to keep them from making mistakes. But… Aziraphale, I can’t do this to you again. This is not me. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry if I disappoint you, but this is a hard limit for me. I didn’t know until now. Please don’t make me do this to you.”  
“I won’t! I won’t, darling. And I am the one who should apologize. I misread this whole thing. I thought this was how it’s done. But it’s not what I need. I might need help to relax and to let go. But I miscalculated. This kind of pain is not what I need.”  
“It isn’t?” Crowley looks at him, hope blooming in him. 

“I need _you_. That’s what this is about. You and me. I want to give myself over to you completely. But the pain was the wrong approach. And it’s me who should apologize. I should have safeworded.”  
“You? But I thought… I thought this was what you wanted.”  
“I thought so, too. But the pleasure I felt was not caused by the pain. It was caused by the ropes. By you taking control. Not the beating. I… I thought maybe I would enjoy it. But… I didn’t. Therefore I should have ended it much sooner. I am so sorry I put you in this place. Caused you this distress.”  
Crowley sighs. “Angel…”  
“I was stupid. I know. You should be used to it by now. I can understand you’re disappointed.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes are sad and dark, he looks ashamed. It hurts so much to see him like this…   
“I’m not disappointed.” Crowley scoots closer now and finally takes Aziraphale into his arms. He presses a long, soft kiss onto his forehead.  
“You could never disappoint me. And you’re not stupid. Don’t think like that. Because it’s not true. We both made a mistake.” Crowley pulls back, looks at Aziraphale and smiles while he gently pushes his blond curls out of his face. 

“So - shall I throw all this away - apart from the ropes?”   
“And maybe the… blindfold. And the cuffs.”  
Crowley chuckles. “Alright. The floggers and crops have to go. And you promise me to use your colours and your safe word as soon as something is feeling off for you. Okay, angel?”  
“Promised. If you do, too.”  
Crowley nods before he kisses Aziraphale long and sweet. The angel sighs and snuggles close again. And this time Crowley gives in. But when he tries to pull Aziraphale into his arms the angel flinches. That’s when Crowley realizes: Aziraphale must still feel the effects of the flogger and the riding crop… 

“Oh angel, I’m sorry. You’re still hurting,” he says and sits up again, looking guilty and ashamed.   
“Turn around and let me see, I’ll make it better.”  
“I can do it myself, no big deal.”  
“No. I did this to you. I will make it right. Please.”   
Aziraphale sighs, but nods. He quickly gets rid of his dressing gown. When he turns his back to Crowley, the demon bites his lip. New tears sting in his eyes, but he blinks them away. But then he moves his hands very gently over the red and warm skin, soothes the pain and makes the marks left by the riding crop vanish. It takes only a minute, until Aziraphale turns and smiles at him.  
“Thank you. This will be a lesson for both of us.” He flings his arms around Crowley and pulls him close and down again, but Aziraphale can’t get really comfortable. He begins to fumble for Crowley’s belt buckle.   
“This blasted thing is pressing into my belly. Take this damned jeans off, my dear.”   
Crowley laughs, but wriggles his way out of his jeans and pants. They sink back into each other’s embrace and kiss and cuddle for a while, reveling in their shared intimacy. Aziraphale shifts his hips and wriggles a little before he pushes his upper leg over Crowley’s thigh and presses close. 

Crowley gasps. Aziraphale is warm and wet and has definitely just changed his effort.   
“Oh… naughty angel…” Crowley breathes. His agile fingers move over Aziraphale soft curves and between their bodies and find him more than ready. His fingers move along the folds to where Aziraphale is the most wet.   
“That feels lovely, angel… You’re still in the mood? You want to feel me inside you? Make you feel good?”  
“Oh yes… Want you. Need you. Please, Crowley…”   
Crowley plunges his tongue deep into Aziraphale’s mouth. The angel groans and tries to rub himself against Crowley’s fingers. But Crowley has other plans. He knows Aziraphale still craves to go completely under. But nevertheless he can make him come. And he can make it good. He plans to do just that. 

With a quick move he rolls Aziraphale onto his back, looms over him and smiles.  
“You look beautiful like this, my angel… So beautiful, so soft and lovely…” Crowley murmurs, looking at Aziraphale in adoration. Aziraphale opens his legs and the scent of his arousal fills the air. Crowley’s forked tongue tastes it for a second. He sighs. “So ready for me… Even changing efforts…”  
“This is quicker, needs no preparation…” admits Aziraphale. Crowley bends down to kiss him deep and wet and slithers close. When his cock touches Aziraphale’s wet heat they both gasp.  
And without further ado Crowley slowly pushes in. Aziraphale moans. He especially loves the first moment when Crowley enters him, no matter if it is in his cunt or if he takes him in his hole.   
“Oh someone… how good you feel… So warm and soft… always so warm and soft…” Crowley groans and begins to move. It’s an easy glide, Aziraphale is in fact more than ready, throwing his head back and holding onto Crowley’s strong arms. 

“Oh Crowley, so good! You’re always so good to me!” He revels in the feeling of the demon’s cock stretching him just right. He hasn’t manifested a cunt for months now, still prefers to have a cock. But now he remembers why it’s nice to make love in this constellation. The feelings are different, but as nice as when he has a cock. They should be really thankful that they are able to enjoy themselves every way they like…   
“Look at you… Oh, angel…” Crowley marvels at the sight of his lover. His skin is flushed, his nipples a dark shade of pink and pebbled. The flushed skin makes the blond hair on Aziraphale’s chest look even paler, and the pleasure is clearly written all over his precious face. Crowley has to kiss him and bends down, catching his mouth in a searing, but loving kiss. Aziraphale reciprocates happily and pulls the demon close. Crowley follows more than willingly. This close he can’t move his hips like he normally does, but he is really deep inside Aziraphale’s body and it feels marvelous. Aziraphale’s lips are on his, and they kiss and kiss and cling to each other. 

Aziraphale caresses every inch of Crowley’s skin he can reach and would love to just melt into him if this was at all possible. How has he ever lived without this intimacy? He can’t remember and doesn’t want to. Crowley’s cock rubs only slightly against his clit, and Aziraphale tries to move to get a slightly different angle. Crowley notices and pushes himself up on both hands.  
“Are you alright?”  
“Oh yes. It’s just…”  
“Harder?”  
“Yes…”   
Crowley complies with a smile. He gets up straighter, holds onto the angel’s thighs to spread them wider and begins to pull out further only to thrust in again with more force. Aziraphale has a look of pure rapture on his face.   
“Good for you?”, pants Crowley. The feeling is so intense! He just loves to fuck Aziraphale however the angel wants him to.   
“Very! Oh darling…” 

Thanking someone for supernatural strength, Crowley keeps moving his hips in the same pace, thrusting deep into Aziraphale’s body, but at some point takes one hand from his thigh and touches Aziraphale’s swollen clit with his thumb. Aziraphale shudders and gasps for breath. Crowley already feels his own orgasm in reach. But no wonder, they haven’t made love for some days now. So the feast laid out for him is magical.   
“Yes! I want all. I want you! Give it to me, darling! Oh how good you feel inside me!”   
Not that Crowley would need any more encouragement. Aziraphale’s words touch something so primal and ancient deep inside his bones, he feels his control slip. He snaps his hips faster, his thumb circles Aziraphale’s center of lust and Aziraphale is smiling. Always a good sign. The angel’s skin is rosy with arousal, which makes him look even more beautiful. His thighs tremble uncontrollably, his hands grip the sheets. Crowley is close and he needs something to send his angel over the edge first. And he knows for sure how Aziraphale reacts to some of his words…

„If you could see yourself, now, angel… You’re so beautiful… so amazing… my one and only,“ he gasps, applying a little more pressure to Aziraphale’s clit. The angel’s back arches, and then he is there, spasming around Crowley’s cock, coming and still smiling. Crowley tries to draw it out, to make it good. Always tries to make it good for Aziraphale. Everything for Aziraphale. But then he can’t hold back any longer. His own climax makes his hips stutter, he throws his head back and moans. Every pulse of his orgasm makes his heart swell with love and adoration for Aziraphale. He knows they were never meant to be together like this. And yet here they are, in love, trusting, hopelessly besotted with each other. This is not just sex. It’s so much more, and they both know it. 

When Crowley pulls out, he immediately gathers Aziraphale in his arms, covers his face with kisses and caresses every inch of warm skin he can reach. Aziraphale snuggles into him, still smiling. His racing heart is slowing down as is his breathing. How can it be that he feels so safe in the arms of a demon? This should terrify him, but it doesn’t. This is Crowley, the silly serpent of Eden. The demon he has sheltered from the first rain with his own wing. His first and only friend, his one true love.   
„I love you so much, Crowley, my darling…“ Aziraphale murmurs and wraps his arms around Crowley to pull him even closer. Smiling, Crowley presses a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple.   
„Good to hear. But I love you more…“  
Aziraphale giggles. This has more than once lead to a competition about who loves the other more. But right now he just wants to close his eyes, to enjoy what they have and bask in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Crowley feels it, too, and has no need to speak further. He feels himself drift off towards sleep already. Never does he sleep better as when he is in Aziraphale’s arms.


	8. Divine pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I let you guys wait so long for the new chapter. But work is a horror at the moment, some major changes happening, and that exhausts me to no end. Plus, I had to re-write part of this chapter because I noticed some mistakes I made. Apologies! Hope the chapter is worth the wait. Thank you for your support!!!

After this first try gone so horribly wrong, they throw out the items they talked about and abstain from a new try until they have discussed the details for the next scene. Neither of them wants to experience such a moment again, and they take a break from this whole BDSM thing for a few weeks until they feel comfortable talking about it again. New rules are set and both feel much more confident when they meet again at Crowley’s flat for the next try. 

Crowley is strict with him throughout the day. Like during the scenes before Aziraphale is naked except for his black collar. Crowley makes him suck him off at the very beginning, forcing him to hold still and just be used for Crowley’s pleasure. He isn’t too rough, but fucking Aziraphale’s lovely mouth is more than amazing. The angel doesn’t complain. He is as aroused as Crowley. After his orgasm Crowley makes Aziraphale lick him clean and warm his cock for a while. Seeing the naked angel kneeling between his legs, obediently holding his soft cock in his mouth while Crowley is watching some documentary on the telly makes the demon’s heart swell with love and adoration. During this first part he asks him several times if everything is okay until Aziraphale breaks character and chides him he shouldn’t treat him like a human and that he is fine with everything. 

Crowley is teasing and arousing Aziraphale for far longer than usual, and both enjoy this game of power. Aziraphale’s cock has been hard for hours now, but release is still denied. Never has the angel thought about finding himself in such a situation. But he completely trusts Crowley to do the right thing, and he feels cared for, safe and loved. When the demon ties him to his desk in his office, Aziraphale is the most beautiful sight. 

Aziraphale’s pale skin is a stark contrast to the red marble of the table top. His hands are tied to the table legs, his arms spread out. His hands are holding onto the edge of the table, the blue ropes binding him, but under only a little tension. He can move and shift a bit, and Crowley can easily manhandle him a bit like he wants him to. Aziraphale’s round bottom is in the air, his legs spread and feet secure on the ground. He looks amazing. Crowley had offered him a blanket so he doesn’t have to lie on the cold marble, but Aziraphale had refused. By now the marble has warmed up from his own body heat and Aziraphale’s eyes are closed. He tries to just feel how Crowley prepares him thoroughly, before he inserts a plug to keep Aziraphale ready - while the demon makes himself a coffee and leaves his side to sit in his throne. Crowley is having his coffee without any haste and fiddles with his phone for a while. Just to keep Aziraphale hard and aching and waiting patiently for his Dom to return his attention to him. It works beautifully. The constant harsh breathing and little shifting noises from Aziraphale tell him how much the angel enjoys being on display, waiting to be used, waiting to please and be pleased… 

When Crowley finally returns to him, a little puddle of precome had gathered on the cold grey granite floor between Aziraphale’s feet.   
“Look at you, you needy little dove… Waiting for me to fuck you.” Crowley runs his hands over Aziraphale’s back. The angel shivers.   
“Waiting to be used. An obedient little pet.” His fingers touch the plug in Aziraphale’s arse and give it a gentle little push. Aziraphale moans.   
“Ah, you like that, hm? Getting your hole filled? Maybe I should make you wear a plug throughout a whole day. While you chat with your customers in your bookshop. Or during dinner at the Ritz.”  
The thought makes Aziraphale pulse out more precome. Crowley chuckles. His own cock is rock hard in his trousers and he can’t wait much longer. 

A snap of his fingers rids him of his clothes before he gently removes the plug. He admires the sight of Aziraphale’s hole trying to close again. Another fingersnap slicks his cock.   
“You can count yourself lucky I am willing to fuck you. To do all the work while you just lie here and let yourself be fucked. But since you are such a good fuck…”   
He lines himself up with Aziraphale’s hole and slowly pushes in. Both close their eyes. It feels so unbelievably good… 

Aziraphale feels everything with a clarity that makes him lightheaded. The polished marble he is lying on, his feet on the slightly rougher concrete floor, the edge of the table pressing into his hips, the structure of the ropes around his wrists, the prickle of sweat on his skin - and most of all: Crowley. Crowley, whose hard erection is filling him, whose hips are pressed against his backside, whose hands are on his flanks and slowly move to his hips now, whose breath is loud in his ears although his breathing is still calm and steady. And now Crowley slowly withdraws, the drag of his cock is a relief after being denied for so long. Aziraphale can feel every ridge and every vein until only the blunt head is still inside him and Crowley pushes in again, groaning. 

“Ah… that’s it… That feels marvelous… colour, angel?”  
“Green…” breathes Aziraphale and repeats it: “Green.”   
“If you could see yourself now… all this lovely white flesh, flushed and eager for me.” Crowley repeats the movement of his hips and slowly fucks into Aziraphale, savoring every moment, taking in the sight.   
“All for me to use. To take care of. You’re my responsibility. You don’t have to worry about anything. No thoughts. No doubts. Just you and me. Feel me. Feel us.”   
Crowley’s thrusts are steady, powerful. He builds up to a rhythm he can keep for much, much longer than any human ever could. 

“Look at you… taking me so well… You were made for this. Made for me. My beautiful little dove.”   
Aziraphale feels tears in his eyes. He shifts a little, and that results in the ropes holding him a little tighter. He has no clue how Crowley does that, and it doesn’t matter. It sends a new spark through his body, sets his nerves on fire, wipes all rational thought from his mind. Crowley can see how the ropes press into the angel’s sink and keep Aziraphale from moving too much. The angel’s face is turned to the side, eyes closed, his right cheek resting on the red marble, and there is a smile on his face. Crowley moves his hips faster. 

“You like that, angel. Being used. At my mercy. No care in the world right now. Always counting on me to be there for you. Isn’t that right?”  
Aziraphale utters a breathless “Yes, sir!”   
“You are mine, angel. This lovely arse of yours belongs to me. For now and for ever. Understood?”  
Crowley sets a much faster pace now, and Aziraphale feels every thrust deep in his bones. He feels as if he’s floating. The desk is rattling and groaning beneath him. He gasps for air. “Yes! Yes, I understand, sir!”  
“Say it! Whom do you belong to?” Crowley’s fingernails dig deep into Aziraphale’s hips, leaving red marks. The slap of skin on skin rings loudly in his ears.   
“You! I belong to you! Only you!” Aziraphale feels as if something is lifting off his body. What is this? What’s happening?  
“Again!” demands Crowley. He pulls his cock out completely and waits, trembling. Oh, how he longs to sink back into Aziraphale’s warmth! To fuck him until he screams in pleasure and then come deep inside his body. Mark him. Make him his. Crowley bites his bottom lip to distract him from these thoughts. Yes, he is a jealous, possessive lover. But nothing more. And as long as Aziraphale enjoys himself, as long as Crowley gives him what he craves, he will continue doing it. It’s fine. They talked about it. The demon looks down at his lover, his sweaty back, hands still bound, his fingers twitching, his hips moving a little in search of contact, of release. 

“Pet! Whom do you belong to?”  
“You! I belong to you! I only belong to you! I’m yours! Make me yours! Please, sir, make me yours!”   
Crowley growls low in his throat.   
“That’s right, dove. You belong to me.”   
He stretches out over Aziraphale’s body. His cock nudges at Aziraphale’s entrance, while Crowley rakes his slightly elongated and pointy fingernails from Aziraphale’s bound arms over his shoulders and then over his back, leaving visible red scratches. Aziraphale moans. It feels as if this contact, this only minor pain, pulls something out of his body. He feels dizzy in a good way. Again he tries to wiggle down a little, to get more contact with Crowley’s cock, to get it back inside. He wants it back inside. He needs it back inside. Although he knows it’s Crowley who decides if he guides his cock back into him. It’s Crowley who decides if Aziraphale is going to come. Only Crowley. He knows what to do. He takes care of him. Like always. Crowley will always catch him when he falls. 

Crowley puts his left hand between Aziraphale's shoulder blades. He presses his hand gently down, feels the heat of Aziraphale’s skin. The tip of his cock barely touches Aziraphale’s body. A sudden calmness overcomes Aziraphale, and he takes a shuddering breath. Then he sags down, suddenly feeling heavy and very warm and - safe. He trusts. He trusts Crowley completely on a whole new level, and with this realization he can finally let go. 

Crowley can see and feel the change in the angel’s body. He sees little shivers running down his spine, but otherwise Aziraphale is calm, pliant and relaxed. Crowley gasps when he looks down at him and sees what is happening. Aziraphale’s aura is showing, his halo bright and golden and shimmering. Crowley can see Aziraphale’s white blond curls through the opaque halo, sees the sweat on the angel’s neck and shoulders, sees him trembling. This is the moment. This is the moment Aziraphale has craved. He is giving himself over completely, submitting himself to Crowley and trusting him like he has only ever trusted God throughout all the millennia of his existence. 

Crowley stops breathing. It is one of these moments where everything slows down. His whole world shrinks until it’s only them in the safe haven of this flat. It seems Aziraphale doesn’t notice at all what’s happening, not even that Crowley has stopped moving. He just accepts, questions nothing and only feels. 

Crowley eventually takes a slow breath. He keeps his left hand between Aziraphale’s shoulder blades and guides his cock back inside. Aziraphale shudders, but otherwise doesn’t move. It’s Crowley who does - long, deep thrusts, each and every one of them precisely hitting Aziraphale’s prostate. Only small little sounds escape Aziraphale. Crowley feels warm all over. This trust Aziraphale shows, the way his gives himself over to his pleasure and to Crowley makes his heart ache with love and the feeling of responsibility. And he would never betray this trust, would never fail him. And understands. Accepts. Loves. 

It’s this thought that brings him close to his climax. But he wants Aziraphale to come first. He deserves it. The hand that pins Aziraphale down on the table, is now taken away. Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s hips with both hands. He pulls Aziraphale a little closer to the edge of the table, then bends over the pliant warm body once more. His forked tongue tastes the air and then laps at Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale gasps.   
“Ssso you jussst sssaid it - you belong to me. You’re mine,” he hisses into Aziraphale’s ear while his right hand moves forward now over Aziraphale’s hip, and he lightly strokes over Aziraphale’s cock from root to tip with just the tips of his fingers.   
“And your pleasure belongs to me, too. Isssn’t that right?”  
“Yes! Only to you, sir!”  
“Well, isn’t that jussst what I wanted to hear? And since you’re mine…” Crowley’s hand closes around Aziraphale’s cock now. Aziraphale moans, eyes closed, lost in this sensation. He is completely at Crowley’s mercy, and he enjoys every second of it. Crowley pumps Aziraphale’s hard shaft - once, twice, a third time, and hisses into his ear: “Then come for me, dove. Now!”

It’s as if a dam breaks. When Aziraphale comes, he nearly passes out with the sheer force of his orgasm. The thing that’s grounding him is Crowley. Crowley’s warm, strong body draped over his back like a living blanket, his big hands on Aziraphale’s skin, his hard cock still moving inside him, his breath hot on his skin and his words.   
“That’s it. I’ve got you. You did so well. You’re safe with me. I’ll always keep you safe. Always hold you. Always take care of you. My beautiful dove, my angel. Oh angel…” And with that Crowley presses himself even closer and his cock inside Aziraphale as deep as it will go and comes, teeth bared, his heart thundering in his chest, and with a great whoosh his wings manifest and stretch out behind him, knocking over a vase on a pillar in the corner, the tips brushing against the walls. He cries out, buried to the hilt in his mate who seems to be still coming (or maybe coming again? he can’t tell right now). This is certainly one of the most intense moments of his life. It’s not only an orgasm. It’s much more. It’s such a deep and primal feeling, he feels connected to Aziraphale in a whole new way. 

When it’s finally over and they are both still shivering with the aftershocks, Crowley’s wings come down and shield them both, wrap them in a perfect, dark cocoon, smelling slightly of sandalwood and this special wax Crowley uses to groom his wings. It’s a familiar scent in Aziraphale’s nostrils, and he sighs and shivers. He has never come this hard. He has never given himself over to his pleasure so completely. 

Crowley’s heart is so full and he feels so light headed that he needs a moment to get his breath back and his brain under control. A happy smile curls his lips, and then he starts to plant loving kisses all over the warm skin of Aziraphale’s shoulders.   
“Oh dove, you did so well… that was amazing. Are you alright, angel? Scene’s over. How are you feeling?”

Aziraphale doesn’t move at first. He’s floating. Every sound and sight is dimmed, he feels warm and content and safer than ever before in his existence. Protected. Surrounded by Crowley and his love for him. It takes him a moment to register that Crowley is waiting for an answer.   
“‘m fine…” says the angel and takes a deep breath. Oh, he feels so good…

Crowley chuckles. “Alright. Let’s get you up.” He presses a last kiss onto the back of Aziraphale’s neck. Then he pushes himself upright, makes his wings disappear again, and his cock slips free. A fingersnap lets the ropes disappear. Crowley may not look like it, but he possesses supernatural strength that makes it easy for him to take Aziraphale into his arms and carry him to the bedroom. He very gently puts the angel down on the bed and caresses his cheek.   
“There we are, my love. You were amazing, dove. So amazing.”  
He removes the collar before he carefully pushes some sweat damp curls out of his forehead.   
“What do you need, angel?” He miracles a warm, damp flannel and lovingly begins to wipe sweat, lube and semen from his skin. Aziraphale doesn’t really answer. His halo is still showing, but now only barely visible.   
“Just… some time to… to process.” Aziraphale struggles to find the right words. Crowley smiles.   
“Okay. Do you want me to stay with you?”  
Aziraphale nods. And so Crowley miracles the flannel away and gets into bed with his love to pull him into a gentle embrace.  
“Is this alright, darling?”  
“Hmhm…” 

They stay like this - Aziraphale is still basking in the afterglow of this whole new experience. His head is completely empty, and he feels he could even sleep for a while. So he closes his eyes and listens to Crowley’s steady breathing. 

Crowley feels the angel pliant and relaxed in his arms, breathing steadily and deeply and can feel that he’s drifting into a light sleep. If Aziraphale is this relaxed, they must have done it right. And Aziraphale has gone off like fire works. Crowley is a little proud of himself. He has finally been able to bring Aziraphale a pleasure he has never felt before. And not only because he made him orgasm like never before. This was much more. They both are very aware. This only made the bond between them stronger. Crowley feels a contentment he has rarely felt during his time on his assignment on earth. This could really work. He so hopes it does. With a deep sigh Crowley closes his eyes, too, and drifts of into a light slumber, full of warmth and love. 

*

The experience they shared that day is not one to repeat every time they have sex. They both know that, and that’s not what they want for their everyday life. This has to stay something special. They can’t even be sure that it will happen every time they act out a scene. Every scene may be different. And it turns out: it really is different every time. They plan their scenes thoroughly. This is too important to mess up again. Aziraphale always enjoys it and always reaches subspace, although some times deeper than others. But he is always able to let go and give himself completely into Crowley’s hands. Crowley gains more confidence with every scene they act out. He learns what’s really important for Aziraphale and tries to give it to him. In the end he would always do everything for Aziraphale.


	9. Aftercare - tonight, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry you had to wait so long, my dears! 
> 
> This last chapter took me a while longer to finish. Endings are always the hardest for me to write. I hope you are happy with it. Thanks to everyone for reading, for leaving kudos and comments. You all mean the world to me!

After about an hour Aziraphale moves and opens his eyes again. When he looks at Crowley, he smiles. Crowley, who hasn’t taken his eyes off him the whole time, smiles back.  
“Welcome back, dove. How are you feeling?”  
“Come to bed?”  
Crowley’s smile widens. “Of course, dear.”   
He leaves his armchair and sheds his dressing gown while he walks towards the bed. Aziraphale already makes room for him to slide under the covers. Crowley rolls onto his back and pulls Aziraphale to his chest, planting a loving kiss to his temple.   
“Satisfied?” he asks, smiling.   
“You were marvelous,” sighs Aziraphale. He presses his lips to Crowley’s bare chest. “Thank you for taking care of me.”  
“Always, darling.” Crowley’s fingertips slowly glide over the warm leather of Aziraphale’s collar.   
“Doesn’t it annoy you by now?”  
“Not at all. I like the feeling.”  
“Why? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”  
Aziraphale chuckles. “I don’t find it uncomfortable. It makes me feel close to you. But… we can take it off now.”  
Crowley quickly unbuckles the collar and puts it onto the bedside table, and for the next hour they stay silent and just enjoy each others presence. This part is as important as the rest and completes and really ends a scene between them. In the end Crowley dozes off, and Aziraphale just enjoys this feeling, replaying the scene in his mind. He feels safer and better than ever before in his existence. 

*

A few days later Crowley is home in his own flat, brooding. He doesn’t spend much time here nowadays. His flat has never been much of a home, more a base of operations. There are not many things Crowley feels a relation to. It’s mostly his plants, the statue he rescued from the attack on the church during the Blitz and his sketch of the Mona Lisa. And some very limited personal stuff that is all to be found in his bedroom. His astronomy books. Some souvenirs from different times, mostly relating somehow to Aziraphale. His Nanny Ashtoreth clothes and some old sunglasses he has collected over the centuries. Crowley likes Aziraphale’s home much more than his own. The angel’s flat is stacked with books and trivia, boxes full of letters from old, long dead acquaintances, among them some poor, neglected house plants Crowley has adopted by now and tries to nurture back to life. But Aziraphale’s flat feels cozy, warm and welcoming. Even more when Aziraphale is present and the smell of tea or hot cocoa permeates the air… 

But sometimes Crowley needs some space for himself. Sometimes to sleep for a few days (he still tends to do this alone) or to let off some steam with his house plants. Or if he is a bad mood, which sometimes still happens. Then he prefers to be alone, even if he craves Aziraphale’s presence. He still hasn’t found a way out of a situation like this. And sometimes he just has to think about something, and then he can’t stand any distractions. Not even from Aziraphale. 

And something to think about, he has. For quite a while now. Crowley sits in his throne, all alone in the flat, brooding. Aziraphale is in the book shop, doing some inventory Crowley doesn’t understand. In his hands Crowley holds a new collar. Again custom made for Aziraphale. But this collar is very different. First of all: it’s white. Embossed in the white leather is a very subtle star pattern. This collar doesn’t have a D-ring. The buckle is gold. The leather is much lighter and softer than that of the black one. Crowley’s fingertips carefully glide over the cool leather. He’s still insecure if he should give this collar to Aziraphale. If he really meant what he said a few weeks ago about wanting to wear his collar for a while longer. Because what if Aziraphale has changed his mind? Crowley doesn’t want to embarrass himself. And he certainly doesn’t want to embarrass Aziraphale. He has to find the right moment for both of them. That’s more easily said than done. And how is he going to do it? 

The insecurity about this damn stupid collar results in some days of very little sleep. Aziraphale realizes it, too, and is concerned. But every question about it is quickly dismissed with an excuse. Aziraphale is already considering to put a little more pressure into his questions, when Crowley invites him for dinner in a little Italian restaurant. He even eats a starter, but otherwise sticks to some remarkably good red wine. Gathering courage without being too obvious, he hopes… 

Later back at Aziraphale’s flat they take their usual places on the little red sofa in Aziraphale’s living room. Crowley is still nervous, but has taken his glasses off - like he always does when they’re alone. Just when Aziraphale is about to ask him again, if there was any problem, Crowley finds the courage to say: “I’ve got something for you.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes brighten - they always do when Crowley has a gift for him.   
“But I’ve got to say something before I give it to you.”  
Aziraphale nods. He folds his hands over his belly and waits. Crowley licks his lips. His tongue is forked, he looks nervous. But then he pulls himself together.   
“You told me something a few weeks before. That you… would like to wear your collar for a while longer. After a scene. Maybe even in public.”  
Aziraphale looks down onto his folded hands. He feels the tips of his ears growing hot. 

“Did you really mean it?” asks Crowley.   
When Aziraphale looks up, he looks embarrassed. Oh, oh… not good… Crowley is relieved he hasn’t just offered Aziraphale the white collar. Now his mind is searching for a way out of this.   
“I did,” says Aziraphale now, his voice low. But he sounds sincere and determined when he continues: “I’ve given it a lot of thought recently, and… I know, this is a bit silly. I don’t need a collar or any other symbol to remind me whom I belong to. But I want one. I want to feel it with every move I make. With every breath I take. It would be visible to everyone. My shirt collar wouldn’t cover it. Everyone could see and would know I belong to someone.”  
“You don’t belong to anyone. You’re your own person, angel. And any wedding ring would do the same trick.”  
“You know I mean it differently. You don’t own me. I gave myself over to you. Into your hands and your care. Everyone can know that.”

Now Crowley wishes he had his glasses on. Aziraphale’s words spur something deep and primal in him, something he very rarely allows himself to feel or look at. His jealousy, his possessiveness over his lover. And - yes, he would love if Aziraphale wore his collar for everyone to see.  
“Alright then.” Crowley reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the collar. He offers it to Aziraphale on his palm. The angel gasps.   
“Oh Crowley… This is beautiful!” He takes it from Crowley’s palm to inspect it. His fingertips move reverently over the soft leather. A smile curls his lips, when he sees the star pattern decorating it.   
“You got this made for me? Thank you, Crowley. It’s lovely.”  
“You are lovely. And only deserve the best.”

When Aziraphale looks up at him, his eyes sparkle with love.   
“Put it on me, please.” He gives the collar back to Crowley. The demon hesitates to take it. When he finally does, he says: “I want you to know - you can take it off when ever you feel the need to. Alright? You’re not my property. I love how devoted you are to me, but I don’t own you. This is all your choice. I won’t ever be cross if you remove this collar on your own.”   
Aziraphale smiles at him.   
“I know. But I thank you for saying it. This means an awful lot to me, dearest.” He loosens his bow tie and opens the first button of his shirt collar, then nods at Crowley. 

Crowley would never have admitted it, but it means an awful lot to him to do this. His movements are sure and steady when he fastens the collar around Aziraphale’s neck. He tests if it’s not too tight, then bends forward to kiss Aziraphale’s warm neck.   
“I love you, angel. More than anything.”  
Aziraphale cups his cheeks with both hands and looks intently at him.   
“I know how long you waited for me. But now you have me - forever. I am yours. And I’m proud of it.” He kisses him lovingly, his thumbs gently caressing Crowley’s cheekbones. The demon’s heart beats fast and he closes his eyes. This moment is something he has never ever deemed possible. An angel and a demon, loving each other, trusting each other with all they are and all they have. An impossible love, and yet here they are. 

“Look at me, my love,” begs Aziraphale and Crowley opens his eyes. Oh, the love on Aziraphale’s face… Crowley swallows hard. It’s still not easy to cope with all the feelings that threaten to overwhelm him from time to time - just like now.  
“You and me… I sometimes think it was inevitable. We have a strange history after all. But we always found our way back together. Maybe some things really are meant to happen. I have the feeling this is one of them. Not the collar itself. But you and me ending up like this. Thank you for being patient and waiting for me.”  
“Was worth every second,” murmurs the demon, his ears growing red. He lifts one hand to caress Aziraphale’s wrist. Aziraphale bends forward to give him a long kiss.   
“Thank you for everything, my darling.”  
“How often do I have to tell you not to thank me?” A smiles curls Crowley’s lips.  
“Countless times,” Aziraphale admits.   
“Good. Because you don’t have to.”  
“Alright…” 

Aziraphale snuggles close now, and Crowley puts his arms around him. They sink back into the sofa cushions.Crowley closes his eyes and sighs. Holding his angel like this and knowing that he’s allowed to is the best feeling ever. One of his hands moves upwards. He gently touches the collar around Aziraphale’s neck, then begins to caress the down like hair above it. The angel smiles. This is his heaven: being with Crowley. And the collar will always remind him how lucky they are to be together. 

If this is their life now, then surely it is a strange one. But one they worked hard for. A bond formed through centuries and millennia. Strong enough to last for much, much longer. For ever, hopefully. There will still be times when something comes as a challenge. But being together, being allowed to love and support each other will enable them to manage everything. And if one day the day comes when everything ends (everything has to end some time, right?) they will be in this together, too. Still loving each other. This love is like an eternal flame, set deep into both their hearts. And who knows, who placed that initial spark into their hearts? They can’t know. The great plan is still ineffable, right?


End file.
